


Blackout

by HadenXCharm



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Car Accidents, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Memories, Romance, Slice of Life, Valentine's Day, White Day, the trope where one of them forgets their whole relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: On their fifth anniversary, Renji and Ichigo get into a car accident. Ichigo wasn't hurt, but Renji hit his head pretty badly. When he wakes up, he's forgotten something very important.





	1. Invincible

**Author's Note:**

> [A valentine's/white day special] Second half will go up on White Day!
> 
> This story includes music in the plot. I personally like to read on mobile, but for those who are okay with reading on a laptop or computer, I've included playable song links. Please enjoy, if you like.

_[Follow](https://youtu.be/yRIK_EKgPek) through, make your dreams come true. Don’t give up the fight, you will be alright, ‘cause there’s no one like you in the universe. _

 

. . .

 

The freeway was dark as they drove home, crowded with the flood of other concert-goers anxious to get home or back to their hotel. The radio was on, but was only half-audible over the hum of the car rocketing down the pavement. The two of them held hands over the console as they talked.

Renji was driving, and was still quite chatty, but Ichigo had always been the listener out of the two of them, and was mostly quiet. Renji’d had his second wind as usual after staying up this late, still pumped up from the concert, but Ichigo was beginning to flag, his eyes drooping as the lights of the opposing traffic whipped past.

They’d gone to see Muse together. It had been an amazing lights show in a gigantic stadium - Ichigo didn't think he'd ever been to a concert with a better display. Renji was still raving about it, the feeling of the bass shaking his ribs, pounding through him, and god, Bellamy’s voice vibrating his bones. Ichigo had to agree, it _was_ pretty sexy.

The two of them did stuff like this together all the time - stage-shows, river festivals, hiking and camping and swimming, took the train around the country, saw movies on opening night - but this outing had been particularly special. It was Valentine's day, and their fifth anniversary.   


     _'I can't believe it's already been five years. It doesn't feel like that much.'_  


 

"Dude, when the holographic hand lit up like there were fucking puppet strings attached to the guitarist's back, I lost my shit," Renji gushed, “So _awesome.”_

“Yeah, I’m glad we went,” Ichigo murmured in agreement. “I’m gonna’ remember that one for a long time.”

Renji gave a long, long yawn, putting on his turn signal and pulling into the express lane. Ichigo let his head drop, his eyes closing to the sound of Renji’s absent humming along with the radio. He vaguely felt Renji’s thumb rub the back of his hand, skating loving circles on his knuckles.  


             _'Five goddamn years, I can't believe it.'_

 

                         “Yeah,” he said. “Unforgettable.”

. . .

 

They’d been dating about a month. They two of them had become friends ages ago and had known each other for quite a few years, so it was a little strange to feel so shy with each other, but the change was new, very new. Besides Renji’s heartfelt confession, they’d barely so much as held hands.

Ichigo wasn’t one for showing excitement, but he couldn’t deny his heart was fluttering like crazy when Renji took him on a scenic ride through the countryside to the base of a hiking trail. It was late by the time they got there, and the trail was closed, all the employees having gone home, but Renji didn't turn back.  


"Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Can't you read? It says it's closed."  


Renji put a finger to his lips and grinned, beckoning him on. Ichigo stared after him for a second, looked around, and then followed him, grumbling that he was the reason why everyone thought he was a delinquent. 

  
"I thought it was your bleached hair."

  
"You know it's not bleached!"  
  
  
"Fuck,  _shh!_   Someone might hear," Renji hushed. Ichigo grimaced, completely unimpressed. "Just c'mon."

  
"Ugh. Whatever."  
  
  
They each gave a quick bow at the gate and walked through into the trees, already beginning to climb. The woods was dark and quiet, and a little spooky - not that Ichigo's a chicken! - but Renji led him up the path with confidence. Tree roots formed the steps in some areas, and Ichigo frequently stumbled, hissing curses with each misstep.

Renji at last reached a hand out behind him, and Ichigo stared up at him in the darkness, feeling as though his beating heart were disturbing the stillness of the forest as he hesitantly reached out to reciprocate and let Renji take his hand.

For a long time then, it was just the two of them together, climbing through the trees in silence, joined at the hand. Ichigo didn't know it was possible to feel so much fluttering excitement, and yet, such contentment. He didn't know how long they stayed like that, their breaths heavy with the effort of climbing for so long, until, perhaps an hour, two hours later, they reached the top, panting and flushed. As they came to the crest and the steps ended, the trees parted at the base of a small temple, the sky opening up above them.

Renji walked out into the middle of the clearing, turning around and looking at the sky in amazement. Ichigo gazed upwards open-mouthed. “Wow, Look at the stars!”

When he finally stopped looking, Renji was grinning and watching him closely, which made him feel awkward and nervous somehow. It was stupid, after knowing each other for so long, to feel so unsure, so self-conscious. On reflex, he grumbled, “What’re you lookin’ at, asshole?”

But Renji wouldn’t play that game these days, at least not as much. It's why he'd brought him out here tonight to be romantic, and it was why he'd held his hand, why he'd confessed his feelings.

Instead of responding in any way to Ichigo's temper, he gazed at him with a smile fit to melt his bones, and said, “You know what.”

And he does, and maybe that's why this was all so hard, why he felt so shy even though he shouldn't. Because he does know.  


     “Whatever,” Ichigo blurted.

  
They lay in the grass in front of the shrine together at Renji’s behest and looked over the shrine’s noyane at the sky, getting bit up by mosquitoes. Ichigo swallowed, not moving when Renji slowly moved his hand over to touch him, at first just sticking his pinkie out to brush the side of his hand. Ichigo twitched, but didn’t move, letting Renji slowly take his hand and hold it. He didn’t squeeze back, but he felt this burst of warmth inside him when Renji’s thumb started skimming his knuckles.  

It wasn't that he'd somehow expected Renji to eventually get him alone and jump him after that confession a month ago, but it's crossed his mind once or twice that Renji would try to kiss him, try to touch him at some point. And now that they were here lying side by side on the ground, it occured to him that this was the part of the movie where the boy kisses the girl or rolls atop her and they do it in the woods. This was that time, but the moment doesn't come, doesn't happen. Renji holds his hand in his and that's where he stops, his face turned to the sky, lax with contentment and pride.

He didn't know when that moment would come, but that's how it goes. That's how it's been between them in these past weeks. Renji has been so slow with him, so gentle.

  
“You asleep?” Renji whispered at last, breaking the silence.  


“No,” Ichigo said sourly with a frown.  


“Well, you didn’t move for a long time, so…”  


Ichigo groaned, and Renji snickered. Goof that he was, Renji sang to him a little bit and squeezed onto his hand. If he were honest, before Renji had confessed to him, he'd never really considered the thought of them together. Whether or not this was personal denial of his own feelings was up for discussion, but the point was, it had been unexpected to recieve that confession. He'd given Renji a chance, and in some capacity, he'd acted as though he were reluctant towards the idea - but now that it's gone on for a month, the smile he'd put on Renji's face, this sweet contented one that he didn't know if he'd ever seen before... he didn't want to see that go away.

He didn't know what to do with this feeling, didn't know where this left him - he didn't know how to reciprocate this terrifyingly _deep_ thing captured behind Renji's eyes. Ichigo didn't know how to deserve the devotion held there. All he knows how to do is what they've always done, and this slow gentle thing, exciting as it was, it frightened him - the happiness on Renji's face in these moments, the fluttering in his own heart, the helplessness of it, it all scares him.  


       Squirming and looking up at the stars, Ichigo at last said, “Renji?”

“... Yeah?”

“What… what’s gonna’ happen now?” Ichigo hadn’t meant to, but he ended up turning his head towards Renji to watch his reaction. Renji kept looking at the sky, his smile having faded a bit.  
  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
  
“I mean, now that we’re… this.”  
  
  
“Oh.”  
  
  
“What if… what if we can’t hack it together?” Renji made a humming sound, and Ichigo continued. “I mean, it’s just, we’ve been buds for a such a long time, and before that, we didn’t get along at all. How’re we supposed to make this work? What are we doing?”  


   He says it, but what he really means is,  _'I don't know what I'm doing.'_

“Hey, hey,” Renji muttered, rolling up onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow. “You’re thinking too hard. Ichigo,” he said, putting his hand on Ichigo’s cheek, causing him to go very still, his arms frozen against the ground. To have Renji touch his face, it felt so intimately close. “You know how I feel about you," he said. "An’ I know you like me too - at least enough that you gave me a chance. That’s all that matters at the end of it.”

“... If you’re sure.” Ichigo rolled towards him too, pillowing his head on his folded arm, other hand tracing around in the dirt.

       
       “Let’s see how far we go.”

  
Renji’s eyes seemed black in the dark of the night, but still were somehow warm, sparkling. Ichigo managed a small smile, holding Renji’s hands in return when Renji took his.

They looked at the stars for a long time, making stupid shapes and trying to get the other to see the same thing in the sky by pointing. At last, Renji sat up and brushed dead leaves off his back, standing and offering a hand out to Ichigo to pull him up.

Ichigo watched as he walked towards the shrine. Renji turned back and smiled like he always did, wide, with his teeth.  

“Let’s make a wish,” he said, and Ichigo only stood there for a moment before approaching with him.

They used the temizuya and washed their hands side by side, walked into the doorway of the shrine and took the rope, ringing the bell together. Ichigo smiled when he saw Renji grinning at the unmelodic clang.

They bowed, clapped their hands twice, and then stood together silently wishing with their hands pressed together and their eyes closed.

. . .  


_Tonight, we can truly say: ‘Together we’re invincible.’_


	2. Guiding Light

_[Touch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsbwAGZHybA) like strangers detached, I can’t feel you anymore._

_. . ._

 

Early in the morning, Ichigo was in the bright white hallway of the hospital. He’d spent a lot of time in places like this, considering he was in the A&E unit closer to their home all the time due to his job. The whole building was always freezing, air-conditioned even in the winter, and the lights were always on, glinting off the shiny floors and the white ceilings. The atmosphere had a way of numbing the senses over time. 

Ichigo slumped on the floor next to the waiting bench, unable to sit himself there, because if he did, he'd have to accept that he was one of those heartbroken family members, waiting to hear that it had been too late to save their loved one. He couldn't accept it, and had instead stood against the wall for a few hours. He'd eventually sunk into a squat, and that was where he was now, collapsed there with his head hanging between his knees.

He’d turned his phone off about an hour before to silence the near constant ringing. He didn’t know how many times he’d had to say it now into the cold receiver, numb all over, his voice surprisingly steady: ‘Renji fell asleep at the wheel. There was an accident. I’m fine, I'm not hurt. He’s…’     
  


     And that's where he always stopped, where the words always fell off.   
  


Ichigo had been miraculously unharmed other than a few cuts and scrapes, perfectly cushioned by the airbag, but Renji hadn’t been as lucky. His head must’ve been hanging down or something when the crash had happened, at least that’s what they thought, because with the way his neck had bent, he’d sustained massive head trauma when the impact of the airbag had slammed him back into his seat, giving him whiplash.

Ichigo didn’t remember the crash. He did remember waking up though, and he wished he didn’t.

There had been a dazed numbness, and a frigid cold seeping into his bones as the heat escaped the car through the broken window. There’d been noise too, so much noise, and in his disoriented state, he’d tried to pick his head up, getting a whirl of the endless black of the sky and the pinpricks of the stars, the endless rushing of headlights going past.

  
In that first moment, he’d thought Renji was dead.

  
He remembered that the most, the clawing sense of dread at his first clear waking thought being that Renji was dead next to him. It was so dark that he couldn't see him, but he knew he wasn’t moving or making any noise at all. Ichigo was able to sit up, coughing and aching all over, his seatbelt locking him in. He could already feel a huge bruise forming across his tender chest, but if he'd ever been in pain, the adrenaline numbed it out.

He rasped for breath, head spinning in panic as he tried to get a look at Renji in the dark. “Re… Ren…” Panting, he fumbled around, managing to unbuckle and turn in his seat. When he saw him, he wished he hadn’t - he almost vomited right there, almost howled, burst into tears, but he couldn't, couldn't breathe enough to do it.

There was blood. Renji had hurt his head, had cracked his skull open. His eyes were half-open and staring, and there was blood streaking across his face, his head was bleeding, soaking into his clothes even as Ichigo watched.  

The rest of the night after that was a godawful blur.

The dark, the cold air through the shattered windows, the bright lights whipping past and flashing, and the endless screaming of sirens, his own cries for help, his boyfriend is dying, help him, please, god, don’t let him die-

He could practically still feel himself holding Renji’s bloody head in his hands and the panicked irrational thought that his brains were coming out, spilling out into his palms and slipping through his fingers - if he just held tight enough, maybe, maybe he’d live, please let him live.

He didn’t know how long it had taken for help to arrive, having lost all concept of time with the hot blood endlessly wetting his hands.

They took a ride in an ambulance, one of thousands Ichigo had taken before, but this time, he was numb and motionless instead of energized. He sat there with a bandage on his cheek and wrapped in a blanket for shock and cold, watching them ice Renji’s head and cut away his shirt to hook some electrodes to his chest.

That was when he snapped, gripped with desperation. “Renji! Wake up!” he hollered, lunging for him and shaking him. His body was so limp against the stretcher, he felt like a fucking crash dummy, and that was what he was, wasn't he, thrown around by the car and crushed like a piece of garbage.

“Sir, get back!”   

He couldn’t find it in him to do anything but blankly stare after he fell heavily against the cushioned bench.  “Clear!”

Ichigo knew what that meant. He was an EMT himself, for god’s sake. He spent his daily life in situations like this, he’s had to do the exact same things to save people’s lives as these paramedics were doing then, but in that moment, the adrenaline that kept Ichigo calm and concentrated on the job wasn’t there. He felt drained and empty. He didn’t fall to pieces, but he couldn’t seem to cope or react to the situation - or even _move_ anymore, simply watching as though through a pane of glass.

As many times as he's gone through the exact same situation, a man laying there bloody and dying under his hands, his psyche couldn't handle the scenario becoming personal. 

When they'd arrived at the hospital, he’d gotten to sit and wait for who knew how many hours until the sun came up, and still he was left waiting.

Ichigo had paced at first, pulling at his hair, but as the hours had passed, he’d begun to sag against the wall, head in his hands. Was Renji okay? Was he hanging on? They couldn’t be working on him this long if it was hopeless, right? They didn’t work this long on a dead man. 

But what if it was worse than that? What if the damage was bad and Renji was barely worth keeping alive? What if Renji was gone in there and they had been too late to save his brain?   
  
  
     If he's honest, if he's brutally honest with himself, it didn't look good. He didn't see a man coming back from a head injury like that. If it were any other guy getting fucked up in a car accident like that, he didn't see them surviving - but Renji, he didn't want to accept that, he can't let this horrible demented nightmare be real. This couldn't be his life.

Ichigo at last crouched on the floor, back against the wall, his arms propped flat against his knees, his forehead resting there. His phone sat on the floor between his feet.  
  
  


_‘Hey. i kno you ignore me constantly but youve done it for longer than usual this time.’_  
  
  
_‘not now,’_ he’d replied.  
  


The last thing he read before turning the phone off and closing his eyes was, _‘Is he dead?’_  
  


It took another half a day or so before he finally got answers. He took it rather well, all things considered. In a freak occurence, Renji had cracked the back of his head on the seatbelt clip on the wall of the car during impact, causing a fracture to his skull, and they’d ended up inducing a coma until some of the swelling on his brain went down.

Ichigo went in to see him, but only for a minute. He didn’t see a point in getting fucked up over it if Renji wasn’t even expected to wake up for a week or so, especially since Ichigo had to keep it together and be in a condition where could keep their affairs in order. He did go in there for a second though, stood at the end of the bed. It was weird how peaceful Renji looked even with his face all bashed and taped up. He’d separated his cartilage from the bridge of his nose when he’d hit his face against the steering wheel.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel or how to react. He’d always been on the other side of these situations, been the comforter, the hero to bring someone’s loved one in to try and save their life in time. He hadn’t been on this side of it since his mom died, and even then, there'd never been hours of wondering, because she'd been immediately pronounced dead. Ichigo's never taken grief or loss well, and maybe it's wrong, maybe it's selfish, but this time, instead of breaking into tears or even closing up emotionally like he had as a child, he felt a sudden hot and vicious bubbling of rage and betrayal at the sight of Renji laying there motionless, as though he were mocking him with his helplessness - because how many times? How many  _fucking times_  was he going to be expected to deal with this, to have something precious ripped away and then be told to stand up and keep going?   
  


Look at him, fucking lying there, peacefully asleep, as though teetering on the verge of death was no big thing to him. Ichigo grit his teeth, balling his hands into fists.  
  
  
_‘Do you think this is fucking funny?'_  he thought.  _'_ _To see if I can do it again?’_  
  
  


                He had to leave before he could punch his recovering boyfriend in his chest.  
  
  


The next few days had been far less exciting, passing in a blur of answering phone calls from friends, some distraught and nearly inconsolable, others concerned and interested in visiting. Although it was hard to sit in the room with Renji when he was laying there as though dead, Ichigo couldn’t seem to make himself even so much as leave the building at first.

It was getting easier at least. There were a lot of sleepless hours of waiting, leaving the hospital only to check in at home and feed their cats.

God, when Rukia’d found out about the crash, she’d been beside herself of course. That had been the worst call he'd had to make. She was out of the country at the moment and hadn’t been able to come as some of Renji’s close friends had, but she was due to visit in a week or so. She called for updates regularly, but Ichigo was hardly able to talk whenever she did, simply holding the phone in silence, overcome with a sense of failure and loss.

He found out later that in the immediate aftermath, he hadn’t been allowed in for as long as he had because he wasn’t immediate family, but after he’d lingered in the hallway half-dead for long enough, they’d eventually let him in to sit with Renji. It could be that they’d finally figured out that Renji had no living family and his next of kin was his live-in partner, who was already there waiting.  

After that he’d been allowed to sit in a plastic chair at Renji’s side. He could only do it for about an hour at a time. Renji lay in bed, arms above the blankets, his head and face bandaged. He had tubes going into him. There was even one in his head, meant to relieve the pressure on his brain. Ichigo doesn't know how to process what he was seeing, how to look at him, so pathetic and helpless.

Ichigo knew about the movies, about how you were supposed to confess your love at the bedside of your comatose lover, how they’ll hear you somehow and wake up in a moment of amazement, but Ichigo didn’t speak. It doesn’t feel right when Renji can’t talk back.

  
      If he told the truth though, he knows it's because if he speaks and recieves no answer, he doesn't think he can face the disappointment.  
  


He didn’t know why this was affecting him so much now. Ichigo sat in the chair with his elbows on his knees, head hanging, and sniffed. He hadn’t fallen to pieces, hadn’t gone nuts on anyone or flown into a rage, more just in numb shock, but by day five, now it was starting to set in. He wiped his eyes with his wrist and swallowed hard.

    He's not going to wake up, is he. 

God, why couldn’t Ichigo have just stayed awake a little longer, why couldn’t he have told Renji to pull over and let him drive for a while? He’d been lazy, and now Renji was gonna’ die because of it.

He had that look about him; Ichigo knew that look. He knew it from the years he’d worked in the business of saving people’s lives. He knew the look of someone who wouldn’t make it. Renji was gonna’ die. Another person he could’ve saved if he’d just been a little less foolish, less selfish.

Renji was going to die, or else he was going to be a vegetable, or even in the best scenario, permanently damaged. The doctor had made it plain to him earlier today that even if Renji made it out okay, it was very likely that he’d need Ichigo to take care of him for the rest of his days. Ichigo had been strong in that moment, as he had been all week, but after a few hours in here at Renji’s side, his eyes were starting to feel a little wet, his throat a little tight.

Renji loved life and lived large, but not anymore. That was all over. Renji wouldn’t be able to do any of the things they’d used to do together. Hiking and camping and swimming, going out dancing or riding Renji’s motorbike, even just climbing the stairs of their apartment building to watch the stars on the roof. Renji wouldn’t be able to do any of those things anymore. He’d need Ichigo to help him do the most basic things.

Ichigo thought of the fragility of human bones when faced with impacts: sand, water, pavement, car accidents. He can remember the feeling of Renji’s head caged in his hands, blood gushing endlessly through his bare fingers, slicking his palms, the only warm part in the frigid February night. He could practically still feel it spilling through despite his best efforts to put pressure on the crushed bones. It had felt like any wrong move could end that fluttering ultimately fragile thing that life was. It had felt like an eggshell.

What if Renji wasn’t right in there? What if he couldn’t speak or walk or take care of himself anymore? What if he didn’t recognize Ichigo? Or Rukia, or Hisagi, or Ikkaku, or any number of things?

Ichigo looked at Renji, head drooping. There he lay, yet unchanged, unmoving and silent. He’d never concerned him much with figuring out the future. He’d been content every day Renji had been by his side. He hadn't seen it at the time, but he saw now that he’d never been happier that he had been then. But now, with it all coming to an abrupt end, he found he had regrets.

He swallowed hard, throat feeling wrenched tight as he looked at Renji’s arm sitting there at his side, his great muscles laying lax and limp. He thought of taking Renij’s hand for a moment, but couldn’t quite do it. He didn’t think he’d ever initiated taking Renji’s hand in his own, and now that he was like this, it felt like he’d missed a very important opportunity.

He wished he’d been more thoughtful, that he’d shown Renji he’d cared. He’d never really done much of that, had he.

 _‘I wish I’d said I love you more,’_ he thought, sniffing hard. _‘I wish we’d had more time… I wish I could take your place and let me die instead of you.’_

He swallowed and closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands.  
  


. . .  
  


It was August twenty-fifth, the hot humid end to a long summer. Ichigo was over at Renji’s apartment building that day, looking for him.  
  
His boyfriend had asked him to come stay the night, as he often did, but when he’d gotten there that afternoon, although he’d been buzzed in, Renji wasn’t in his rooms.  
  
He’d thought of sitting on the couch and waiting for him to show his face, since he knew Renji was around, considering he’d been buzzed in - but before he sat down he noticed there was a sticky-note stuck to the TV with a message telling him to come to the roof.

Ichigo frowned, pulling the note off and looking at it, then the ceiling. He set his jacket and bag down on the floor and left Renji’s housing unit, walking down to the end of the hallway in curiosity. Sure enough, there was another note stuck to the wall. _‘This way.’_

Giving a little quirk of his lip, having caught on to Renji’s game now, Ichigo snatched that one down too and followed the trail. When he had climbed the stairs to the top floor and made it to the door to the roof, he found a final note. _‘Almost there. ☺ '_

Ichigo opened the employee entrance door, finding there was a tapedeck at the base of the steps, playing [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3T7iFfkX_nA).

He climbed the stairs at a jog. _‘Listen, do you wanna’ know a secret? Do you promise not to tell?’_

When he came to the top and looked around the nearly bare rooftop, the bench that had the cushions taken off so that it wouldn’t get sour in the rain, the card table, the rickety railing at the concrete edge of the roof.

Renji was up there waiting for him, and when he saw Ichigo, he smiled and waited for him to approach, then handed him a flower, singing with the music a little. _“I’m in love with you, Oh-wooh-ohh oooh woooh.”_

Ichigo snorted at first, taking the flower, then began to snicker a little, letting Renji take him in his arms and dance him around a few steps.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked as Renji nosed at his neck, kissing him under his jaw, continuing to try and rock him about, holding his hands and making him dance.

“Can’t I just do something to romance you once in awhile?” Renji hummed, letting go at last and settling his arms around Ichigo’s waist, swaying and spinning them lazily.

"Oh is that what this is? I thought you were just being a ridiculous jackass like always."

"Well damn." Renji let his forehead thud against Ichigo's. "I tried my best, alright?"

Ichigo gave a joking deadpan. “I already came to spend the night, so you didn’t have to put in the extra effort.” That is where they have always differed. Renji would always put in the extra effort, would always chase at his heels and try to woo him whereas Ichigo went with the flow and turned up his nose in indifference.

“I’m practically in the sack right now,” he said flatly, raising an eyebrow. Renji didn’t reply, lifted one of Ichigo’s hands, and gave a long kiss to his knuckles, eyes shining.

There was an early summer moon up in the clouds behind him, even at only four o’clock, sharing the sky with the sun and beaming at each other from opposite ends. Ichigo flicked Renji’s chin, but didn’t take his hand out of Renji’s grip. “You’re a humungo sap.”

“Yeah,” Renji said, his expression becoming earnest as he brought their hands down to their sides. “Think you can handle that indefinitely?... Maybe?” he hedged, when Ichigo furrowed his brow at the weird wording.

“What does that mean?”

Renji let out a sigh, giving a wry grin. “I know we oughta’ have a serious conversation about it, but I thought I’d try to sweep you off your feet first.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Ichigo said after a pause to consider his words.

Renji exhaled through his nose, separating them a half-step to take this little paper packet out of his back pocket, handing it to him but not releasing it when Ichigo went to take it, leaving them both holding it. Ichigo looked up to Renji’s face, frowning to see that he seemed… not nervous exactly, but perhaps apprehensive.

“Ichigo,” Renji began seriously, and Ichigo buckled himself in for a speech. “The past couple years I’ve gotten to know you have been great,” he said. “I know we go way back, but after we got together, I feel like I really got to know the real you. I’ve…”

He gave a huff and looked off to the horizon for a second, shrugging a shoulder. “I feel like I can do anything when you’re with me. You’ve been my buddy through some hard times, you’ve always lifted me up, and I really respect you.” Ichigo lowered his eyes, shifting uncomfortably at what he felt was excessive praise. “To know that I’ve been able to love such an amazing person like you, knowing that I can kiss you, I feel like the whole world’s jealous a’ me.”

Renji gazed into his eyes again then, leaning forward to give him a long warm kiss, as if to punctuate his point.

“Where’s this going?” Ichigo wondered when they parted. “You’re not trying to break up, are you?” he muttered wryly.

“Not funny,” Renji said, contradicting himself by laughing through the words and ducking in to bite at his neck and tickle him.

When they quit tussling, Renji gave a long sigh. “I’m trying to tell you… I think I realized a little while ago that, to me…” He seemed to hold his breath then, looking for the right words, finally letting them out, “everything’s just better when we’re together.”

As he always did when Renji had touched his heart a little too intimately, Ichigo pulled away, brushed it off. "Why are you saying this to me. What's happening."

"I know it's not my birthday for another week, but..." Renji cleared his throat. "Look, just..." He squeezed Ichigo’s fingers in his palms, pressing the little paper packet against his hand to make him take it, but still didn’t let go just yet. “… Just… Here,” he finished ineloquently. “I hope you’ll accept this.”

Renji let go, leaving the small square of wax paper in Ichigo’s hand, waiting expectantly. Ichigo looked at him for a moment before opening the bag with fingers that were trembling just slightly for some reason. He hadn’t expected to be so affected by Renji laying his heart down in front of him for the thousandth time, but he apparently was, and as he dumped the little bag out into his palm, a metal key slid into view.

The sky seemed golden above them with the sun and moon up there, the light seeming to glint off the key and make the dull metal sparkle and shine.  
  
The rest happened as you'd expect it would. They embraced, they spun each other and laughed and kissed, they chased each other downstairs and they made love.  
  


       That day had been almost two years ago now, a little after the three-year mark in their relationship.

  
Ichigo had of course, accepted, like he always did, and it hadn’t taken long to permanently set up shop at Renji’s house. Moving in had felt natural. There had been a lot of his stuff at Renji’s place anyways with how much he slept over those days.  

They’d roomed together briefly in college, and it felt like that all over again, living with his best friend, except now it was a layer deeper. Renji’s room was their room, Renji’s house was their house, Renji’s cat and Ichigo’s cat were now their cats. They had a joint bank account and both brought home groceries to the same fridge, they shared a TV and a bathroom and a bed.  
  


      Now though, Ichigo hated coming home. The house was empty seeming now. Their cats were really lonely, milling about his feet whenever he walked through the door, begging to be pet, but he just walked past them. The house seemed dim, even with the lights on. The air seemed stale, even when he opened the windows. Most of all, it was quiet without Renji here.

Renji’d always been making some sort of noise around the house, bumbling about and humming, his heels hitting the ground with careless heavy blows, vibrating the floor. He’d play his Eroge on the TV without his headphones, or use the blowdryer, or jam while he cooked, half-talking to Ichigo about whatever he was thinking. Even when he read, he read out loud. It’d been a constant background noise, and Ichigo’d had to come to accept that peace and quiet now included some Renji-noise - but now it's just him, all alone in the silence.

As much as Ichigo wanted to avoid it, he had to go home at last, because as determined as he’d been to stay away, he could not stay in the hospital forever. Renji hadn’t shown signs of improvement. It was actually past time since he was supposed to start coming out of his coma, but he hasn’t woken up yet, which meant recovery was looking bleak. The doctor's already had a talk with him about considering his options. Ichigo had to resume life, show his face at work, see his family.

He went home and fed the cats, showered, threw out the rotten food in the fridge, and cleaned up a little, and then when he was done, the silence immediately swallowed him up.

He left the apartment, going up. It was the middle of the night by then; he’d occupied himself until around two in the morning, and immediately couldn’t stand it when he ran out of things to do. Standing on the roof, he went up to look at the moon, but found that it wasn’t there.

Covered by clouds maybe. Whatever the case, it left the sky black and empty, so he just stands there alone under the void, endlessly dark and unbearably lonely.

 

. . .  
  


_When comfort and warmth can’t be found, I still reach for you, but I’m lost, crushed, cold and confused, with no guiding light left inside._


	3. Shrinking Universe

_[Purposeless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-ZKEgwTgm8) survival, now there’s nothing left to die for, so don’t struggle to recognise. Now they call it ‘heart-felt suicide.’_

 

. . .

 

  
     When the call came about a week later, Ichigo was at work.

Apparently, Renji had woken up earlier that day. He was coming out of it. Ichigo didn’t even have time to ask about Renji’s condition, because after he heard that he’d woken up, he left work on a family emergency and zipped down there.

He had a short argument at the desk when they tried to keep him from going in again - no, they’re not immediate family, Renji doesn’t _have_ any immediate family, he’s the closest thing to it so please let him in already!

Maybe in that time, some part of him had accepted the very real possibility that Renji might never wake up again, and had died along with him - and now that he heard that he'd woken up, he was energized with a renewed sense of panic and urgency, needing to get to him as fast as he could.

When he finally got in to see Renji, practically bursting into the room, breathing heavily, Ichigo stopped short in the doorway to see that Renji was laying… if he wasn’t mistaken, _exactly_ as he’d left him a few days prior. He was completely unchanged, other than having had the gauze pad removed from the stitches over his nose and the tubes taken out of his head and mouth.

Ichigo held his breath, standing motionless, not even daring to move a finger from where they stuck out at his side. He hadn’t imagined that call earlier, had he? He couldn’t have… They’d said Renji had woken up, had come back to him. He’d thought…

A crippling wave of despair began mounting, nearly overwhelming, because he may have been able to cope last time, moving through life in a daze, but having his hope played with and then torn away from him, he just couldn't take it. Ichigo was an inch from, from- he didn’t _know_ what he was about to do near all this breakable equipment, he didn’t know how loudly he was about to break the peace of the intensive care unit.

He felt a nurse brush past him as she slid through the doorway to check Renji’s vitals and replace his IV pouches.

   “He,” Ichigo croaked, pointing a weak hand towards the bed. “He’s still…?”

“Hm?” She looked up. “Oh,” she said with a smile. “No, he’s only fallen asleep,” she assured him, repeating herself several times when Ichigo demanded confirmation, not believing it at first.

“How… how is he?” he asked at last, his head filled with endless nightmare scenarios of brain damage reducing his boyfriend to the mental capacity of a baby, permanent damage to his ability to read or think or speak,  _nerve damage, blood clots-_

“He was quite alert earlier,” she reported, “He ate a fruit cup and asked when he could go home.” That sounded like Renji all right, so much so that Ichigo was able to pull himself together. He knew he had to get a grip - he just hadn't expected to ever lose it like that, that he'd need to get it back. 

“Okay. Okay,” he said, pacing a few times and then approaching the bed at last. “Thanks.” When she left the room, he sat in the chair and put his head in his hands and sniffled and rubbed his red wet eyes over and over. He didn't know why he was crying now, now that it was over, now that it seemed things might turn out okay.

     
     He'd been so scared, so goddamn scared.

  
He sat there and waited, grit his teeth and scrubbed his eyes, throat tight and hot - he didn't know how long he sat like that, until Renji finally moved.

It was no great shock when Renji woke up. Ichigo didn’t seize up or hold his breath or stare in amazement, still pressing his face into his palms when he heard Renji groan. He listened to him give a cracked wheeze of a breath and move a little bit - _he's waking up._ Ichigo peeked an eye out, sniffing hard, and watched as Renji shifted minutely, his eyes fluttering, rolling beneath the lids.

He’d sat at his bedside for so long and thought it strange to see him so silent and motionless, because even in sleep, Renji was usually noisy and tossed about a lot. During his coma, he’d lain still as if dead, his breath so quiet he could only be sure of it from the small motion of his chest.

Now though, at last, it's almost as if Ichigo was watching him wake up on any normal Saturday. Renji sniffed and pressed his lips together, scrunching his face up, and then gave a long yawn, and Ichigo mildly picked his head up, silence and stillness overcoming him as he watched Renji move for the first time in what felt like ages.

Ichigo didn’t say anything at first, content to just absorb himself with the sight of him there, alive again. He waited quietly until Renji saw him, watched as he focused on him and took a moment to understand what he was looking at, and when he did, Renji inhaled and blinked at him, clearing his dry throat.

“I-” He cleared his throat again with a small grimace, swallowing, his voice incredibly raspy. “Ichigo,” he croaked, almost as if he were just naming the first thing he’d seen upon waking up. Ichigo felt a rush of relief at the note of recognition in Renji’s voice. He’d been really afraid for a second that Renji would wake up different.

     “You came.” He sounds so weak. His voice is just this pitiful whisper that breaks Ichigo's heart.

 

“You’re awake,” Ichigo returned, pulling the chair in a little bit. “I thought for sure you were a goner.” He choked up unexpectedly as he said it, blinded for a moment with tears. He'd almost lost him. He'd really almost lost him forever.

“Thanks for coming.” Renji tried to smile, but couldn’t do it to its usual brightness, not wanting to split his cracked and dry lips down the center. “They told me Rukia couldn’t make it.”

Ichigo frowned deeply, heart still pounding, his head still rushing with emotion. “Of course I came, where the fuck else would I be?”

Renji’s expression grew serious as he tested all his limbs, wiggling a little and flexing his back by pressing his hips up for a second. At last he asked, “What happened?”

Throat drying up, Ichigo tried to clamp down on the tiny bubble of distress that grew in his chest. He refused to overreact, because letting Renji see him get hysterical would only scare and upset him. Trying his best to stay calm and gentle,  _patient_ , he instead prompted, “Do you remember?”

Renji thought in silence for a few seconds, staring off at the wall. “... Driving,” he finally said. He was quiet for a long time again, and finally asked lowly, “I didn’t kill anyone, did I?”

“No,” Ichigo said, hands clenching into fists as he felt the slick blood gush through them again. The few negligible scabs and bruises he’d received were already almost gone. Even the huge welt from his seatbelt was starting to turn yellow around the edges.  “No, you were the only one hurt.”

Renji sagged in relief. “Good,” he breathed. “Well, not good.” He frowned, crinkling his brow, testing his arms again. “Oh god,” he blurted when he tweaked the tubes taped to his forearm and consequently, noticed the needles. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

“Just don’t look at it.”

“Shit,” Renji breathed through his teeth, grey in the face, holding his arm deadly still. “When will they take this out?”

“I dunno’, soon.”

“I feel fuzzy,” Renji noted, lifting his other hand carefully to press his fingertips into his cheek, his lips.  “What’s wrong with me?”

“Besides the usual stuff?” Ichigo managed to joke, smiling halfway and wiping his nose one last time.

“Ah, shut it,” Renji huffed back, but smiled too, turning his head in the pillow a little.

“You, uh…” Ichigo fidgeted, head and shoulders drooping as he rested his elbows on his knees. “Skull fractures and brain swelling,” he said, the same words on Renji’s medical reports, so impersonal, so indifferent to the heart and soul that skull and brain housed.

“They had to put you in a coma. Didn’t think you’d make it.” His throat grew itchy and tight, making it incredibly hard to speak, but he wrenched out quietly, “Didn’t think you’d wake up the same, if you did.”

Renji’s eyes were round and he was quiet for a second. “Holy shit,” he finally said. “Glad my brains didn’t get all scrambled.”

“Me too,” Ichigo agreed, and it was out of the ordinary for him to be that open and affectionate with Renji, but he was still feeling particularly spooked. He’s sure he’d be angry later, _don’t you ever scare me like that again, you fucker,_ but for now he was too relieved to be very upset.

He took Renji’s hand, the one he hadn’t been able to touch for all this time because of how cold and motionless it was. He took his hand in his and held it, immediately feeling relieved and comforted. Renji was okay. He was really gonna’ be okay.  

Ichigo didn’t know why he hadn’t done this more beforehand, why he’d been so surly and distant, why he’d wasted so many opportunities. He might’ve never gotten to do this again. This had almost been taken away from him.

Renji gave him a look and eased his hand away slowly, sliding it out of Ichigo’s grip. Ichigo let him go with a crease to his brow. He’d always known Renji to be the cuddly one. He usually basked in any reciprocated attention Ichigo would give him. For now, he would chalk it up to the accident and then the coma and then the medication, not to mention Renji wasn’t a fan of hospitals. He had to be feeling pretty whacked, all things considered.

Renji tried to sit up then, looking… sheepish? Embarrassed?

“Heh,” he muttered. “Must’ve really rattled you, huh?”

In any other situation, at any other time, Ichigo would’ve bullshitted, brushed him off with his usual sour scowl and sarcastic excuses, but the feeling of having lost him was still so fresh in his mind, and all Ichigo could say was, “... Yes.”

Renji slowly peeled himself from the bed, his bare back sweaty and pale. “Shit,” he grumbled when his arms shook weakly as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. Ichigo made to reach out an arm to help, but thought twice of it - in case Renji didn't want help. Renji continued to struggle, trembling all over, and when it really looked like he couldn't do it on his own, Ichigo at last placed an arm at his back and a hand on the thin fabric just below his chest, easing him upwards.

“Thanks bud,” Renji whispered, his cheeks white. He reached a hand up behind him to touch the back of his head, lurching for a moment as his balance failed.

Having almost the same reaction as he would to touching a hot stove, Ichigo’s hand shot out to stop Renji - he was always picking at things when he got hurt! - but he didn’t make it in time somehow, and Renji jolted with a sharp gasp, ducking away from his own touch.

“Ah! Ow,” he hissed. “Owww,” he whispered.

“What are you doing! Don’t touch your head!”

“Okay… okay, shit that hurts,” Renji panted. “How did I not notice?”

Forcing himself to relax a little, Ichigo eased back into his chair, lowering his arms from where they hovered. “You’re on the good stuff.”

"Heh’.” Renji smirked, seeming to like the idea. “So how long have I been taking my dirt nap?”

Any ghost of a smile fled Ichigo’s face. “Don’t say that,” he said seriously, and Renji cocked his head to the side with a frown. “Not long,” Ichigo said at last. “Two weeks.”

Two weeks was what he said, but what he thought was: _‘Sixteen days.’_  


. . .

  
  
Put it down in stone that Renji didn’t lie to Ichigo.

He did sneak sometimes though. Not maliciously, of course, but when he felt Ichigo was ‘worrying’ or ‘being overbearing’ or ‘ruining his fun,’ he might… not exactly _hide things,_ but lie through omission.

So Renji had this motorcycle, right? He loved that thing. It was his pride and joy, and even though it was getting old and kind of unreliable, he buffed it until it shined and he’d used to take Ichigo everywhere on it right after they’d first started dating. For a while, things had been great, but they’d had a few scares on it, and Ichigo had started getting skittish. Around a year and a half of being together, Renji was still brushing it off, too emotionally attached to believe it was time to let go. After it had stalled on the freeway, however, Ichigo had put his foot down, and Renji had promised he was going to get rid of it.

Ichigo had thought he had already done so, and Renji had implied that he had, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Apparently, Renji had decided to keep the motorcycle and not tell him about it, and had taken it out today in a light drizzle, and had ended up wiping out. Luckily, he’d gotten away without being hit by a car or damaging his bike, but he’d still been hurt. Needless to say, Ichigo had not been happy when he’d gotten a call at work informing him that Renji was in the emergency room with a sprained wrist and road rash he’d gotten from an accident on a motorcycle that he’d supposedly gotten rid of.

Sighing through his nose and letting his eyes roll back, Ichigo’d gone in to pick his boyfriend up, silently brooding with his arms crossed. He kept his temper and let Renji squirm, refusing to look at him until the doctor had stepped out of the room, preferring to scold him in private. Renji had the decency to look ashamed when Ichigo folded his arms and at last gave him a look and raised an unamused eyebrow.

“So okay, I know you’re mad at me,” he began, which wasn’t exactly the best way to open this conversation, “but-”

“Yeah, I'd say so,” Ichigo said, because using disappointment was far more effective than yelling, and he just watched as Renji squirmed with guilt under his steady gaze. “You told me you were getting rid of that damn bike.”

Renji’s tone went hushed and apologetic, his expression sheepish. “I know, baby, I know I did,” he agreed meekly, trying to go on, but Ichigo cut him off again with a grimace.

“Don’t call me baby when I’m upset with you, it’s not gonna’ get you out of trouble.” He started raising his voice, irritated, glad at least that they’d already set Renji’s arm and treated his road rash before he’d gotten here, because then he wouldn’t have to feel bad about snapping at his boyfriend while he was still hurt. “You said you were getting rid of that bike.”

“I know.”

“So why didn’t you? Why did you lie to me,” Ichigo demanded calmly, staring him down.

Renji was practically crawling out of his skin, his eyes pleading for Ichigo to forgive him. “I didn’t lie, you know I wouldn’t lie to you,” he coaxed, but Ichigo wasn’t having any of it.

“You told me you were getting rid of it, but you didn’t get rid of it. Plus, you purposefully didn’t tell me. Sounds like a fucking lie, Renji.”

Renji at last got off the cushioned patient bench and stepped towards him, imploring, “Ichigo, I’m gonna’ sell it, I am. I just wanted to take it for a few more rides.”

“Unbelievable.” Ichigo put his fingers to his brow, closing his eyes and letting out a rough sigh. "How can you expect me to ever trust you again when you'd lie about something so small."

“I’m sorry,” Renji said. “Ichigo, I’m sorry. You were right the whole time. I’ll never get on another bike, I swear.”

“It’s not the bike, it’s that it’s falling apart! It’s fucking dangerous! I told you if you wanted to get a new one, then fine, just wear a helmet!”

“I can’t afford it right now, I just wanted to hang onto her- _it,”_ he corrected almost immediately, but Ichigo already groaned and rolled his eyes. “Look, it was the first big thing I was able to save for and buy, I’m attached to it. I didn’t want to sell it away. I’ve had some good times on that bike. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I knew you'd just make me let her go, and I wasn't ready.”

“I know,” Ichigo shot back, “I know it’s hard for you, and I wasn’t trying to be controlling. I just didn’t want _this_ to happen.”

“It was just an accident,” Renji murmured, eyes sad, running a hand over the back of Ichigo’s head, as if trying to apologize for worrying him so much.

Ichigo pushed his hand off. “It’s always just an accident, but accidents have fucking consequences, Renji. Just because you didn’t mean it doesn’t mean things don't get fucked up, you can’t just take it back,” Ichigo snapped, slapping Renji on his casted arm.

He put his fingers to his temples, shook his head, and sat down heavily. Renji rested next to him, rubbing on him just a little, only daring to reach out one knuckle and stroke it against his side. Ichigo grimaced, but didn’t stop him that time, because he couldn’t stay seriously upset with Renji for very long, not when he was openly sorry.

“You’ve gotta’ stop doing this, Renji,” he said tiredly. “You’ve gotta’ start being more responsible.”

“That’s losing,” Renji murmured. “That’s the end if I do.” Ichigo looked up for a second, then rolled his eyes, standing back up and pacing the room once or twice. “Once you start, you can’t stop. Once you grow up, you can’t start acting like a kid again. You can’t be young again.”

“Everyone has to do it sometime.”

“That’s why I have you. To keep me in line. Annoying.”

Ichigo gave a long sigh and begrudgingly smiled. “You say that but you wouldn’t last on your own.”

Renji gave a small smile in return, but his eyes were serious. “Ichigo, I meant it,” he said, “I know when people grow up, they move out and meet people and settle down, but I don’t ever wanna’ grow up.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“I wanna’ keep doing crazy shit. I wanna’ keep seeing you. I don’t ever want to see you leave and get married and have kids and wear a suit and tie at a stupid fucking job,” he said. “I want to stay up late playing Smash Bros and eating chips with you forever. I wanna’ see you across the campfire with the fireflies all around you and take you to the top of the mountain. I don’t wanna’ stop doing that…”

Ichigo didn’t know why Renji was getting so serious, but listened in silence, letting Renji take his hand. “I don’t know how I could move on and forget that stuff and live a grown-up life. Maybe you don't understand it, but this is my way of telling you I'm serious about you."

Ichigo snatched his hand back, scowling mercilessly. “I'd believe it if I actually thought you could be serious one goddamn day of your life. How am I supposed to rely on you when you fucking act like this?" His harsh words don't seem to perturb Renji much, because he just keeps gazing at him with that lovelorn look on his face.     
  
"You have to stop being a dreamer someday," Ichigo insisted, turning his face away.  
  


      “I dunno’ how. I dunno’ how to stop loving you.”  
  


              “What if you had to. What about when this ends?”  
  


Renji quirked his lip in a smile, rolling a shoulder. “Well, if I lost you, I guess I’d have to let you go,” he said. “But I’d never forget.”

Ichigo sighed, shaking his head, still pretty steamed about the whole thing, because he knew he’d have to listen to Renji complain for a whole month or so through the summertime about how his cast was itchy and that he’d have to put a bag on it to go swimming.  
  


    “There’s some things the heart just never forgets.”  
  


. . .

  
_Can’t you see it’s over? Because you’re the god of a shrinking universe._


	4. Blackout

__[Don’t](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dee3RSgUWiM) kid yourself and don’t fool yourself: this love’s too good to last, and I’m too old to dream.  
Don’t grow up too fast and don’t embrace the past: this life’s too good to last and I’m too young to care.  
  
. . . 

 

The nurse eventually came back in, and Ichigo sat by in silence while Renji was fed and had his cranial nerves checked. He was asked to perform simple tasks like write his name and answer questions. Who is the current prime minister? Where do you work? What is your age?

Renji answered it all correctly, and happily ate his apple sauce with wobbly hands while Ichigo watched.

“Thanks for visiting me, bud,” he said, frowning for a second when his apple sauce plopped off of his spoon and onto his tray before it could get to his mouth.

He'd been a little confused when Renji hadn't tried to wheedle and tease him into feeding him, since he always did that kind of shit when he was sick. Ichigo would've done it too, still so rattled that he felt like comforting and taking care of Renji. He seemed to want to do it on his own though, so Ichigo let him, even if he was doing a poor job feeding himself.

“They say when you can come home?” Ichigo wondered, because none of the nurses had said anything to him about it, but maybe before he’d gotten here, there’d been something.

Renji narrowed his eyes in what Ichigo thought was a rather weird manner. His question had been clear enough, hadn’t it. Renji eventually said slowly, “I’m getting released in a couple days. Why?”

“I just wanted to know if I should get anything together back home, or…”

“Oh,” Renji nodded, shrugging a shoulder against his pillow, propped up. “No, that’s cool, but thanks.”

“Stubborn ass,” Ichigo muttered. Renji looked up, jutting his lip out questioningly. Ichigo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Quit pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”

  
“I’m getting better.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“I am.”

  
“You were in a coma for two weeks,” Ichigo insisted, softly, whereas usually he would’ve chewed Renji out. “That’s not nothing.”

“Heh’, okay,” Renji admitted. “Fine.” He gave up on his food, settling his head on the cushion and resting his hands just below his chest. Ichigo moved his plate to a side table for him. There was still a lot of food left in the cup, but he knew Renji wouldn’t let him get away with hand-feeding him - clearly it was a matter of pride. He would’ve thought Renji might not have much appetite, but then again, Renji had a pretty strong stomach. He was probably just frustrated after spilling so many times.

“Anything much changed while I’d been gone?” Renji wondered.

Ichigo swallowed hard, considering, but he didn’t want to upset Renji by letting on how scared he’d really been, how much this had messed him up. They would talk about it later when the wounds were less fresh. For now he mostly brushed it off by saying, “Ahh, well, Apple and Orange miss you like crazy.”  
  


“Huh?” Renji said, as if he hadn’t heard right.  
  


“Apple and Orange miss you,” Ichigo repeated. “They’ve been really lonely without you.”  
  


“No, I heard you. I mean, who is that?” Renji clarified.  
  


“Who’s who?”  
  


“Those people.”  
  


“The cats,” Ichigo said, furrowing his brow.  
  


“What?” Renji wrinkled his nose back at him, as if he’d never heard anything about this before.  
  


“Apple and Orange are our cats,” Ichigo reminded, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “... Are you sure you’re okay?”

Renji looked at him rather suspiciously for a moment more, before recognition flashed into his eyes, but not the kind Ichigo was looking for. Renji blew him off with a snort. “I don’t have a cat, Ichigo, quit fucking with me.”

Oh, he got what he was doing now. Renji was playing a game, pretending like he didn’t remember shit just to work him up. Ichigo told himself that, but his fingertips were starting to shake and he felt all wobbly in the stomach. He stared at Renji for a long time, at last clearing his dry throat.  
  


“... If you’re trying to scare me, Renji, I swear-”  
  


Renji rolled his eyes with a smile. “You’re not gonna’ trick me, Ichigo.”  
  


Ichigo was quiet for a beat. “‘Trick you how?”  
  


“I can remember everything perfectly fine, you’re not gonna’ get me to freak out with that old trick!” Renji accused, grinning, as if pleased with himself that he’d caught on to Ichigo fucking with him. “Your jokes don’t work on me, man, just give it up.”

“Do you feel alright?” Ichigo asked seriously, checking Renji’s pupils. Maybe he was having some sort of episode… It didn’t seem like Renji was fooling around. Ichigo knew all of Renji’s tells, and if Renji was bullshitting, he was doing so flawlessly.

“Ichigo,” Renji said with a grimace, giving him a deadpan, as if he wasn’t finding it so funny anymore.

Ichigo leaned back, managing a rather empty smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, you got me,” he faked, but inside, everything buzzed with a bone-numbing dread. Renji had seemed to be functioning just fine up until now, but clearly there were some things missing.  
  


_‘How on earth can he not remember Orange and Apple? It was his idea in the first place to adopt them… Maybe if he sees them, it’ll come back. God, I hope this is the only catch in his memory.’_  
  


“There is one thing that is fuzzy though,” Renji admitted, eyes narrowing in concentration as he stared down at his hands. Ichigo’s ears perked and he leaned forward, still rather sick to his stomach, his shoulders tense.

“What’s that.”

“You were there, right, so you know,” Renji leveled him with a serious look, “and you’d tell me the truth without holding back, right?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo promised. Renji nodded, not breaking eye-contact.  
  


     “What were we doing the night of the crash?”  
  


Everything seemed to stop for a second. Ichigo knew it was normal for people to forget events surrounding incidences of head trauma, whether it be a few seconds to an entire day, but it was still scary to have it happen to someone he loved. It was still scary to know that of the two of them, only one of them had lived that night. To Renji, if he didn't remember it, he might as well have never been there. Ichigo was alone in that memory of the blood and the bitter cold and the screaming.

“. . . “ He didn’t know what to say at first, opening his mouth and then shutting it helplessly. Renji stared him down, beginning to frown in what was beginning to look like disappointment, as if he expected Ichigo to hold back. “Can you try to remember on your own?” he prompted at last, feeling especially wary.

He expected Renji to get ticked and insist that of course he’s already tried, didn’t Ichigo think he’d fucking tried that before asking? But instead, Renji laid back and stared off in front of him, expression thoughtful, his brow tensed.

“A loud theatre,” he said after a long time, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his tired forehead. “No… a lights show,” he said slowly, opening his eyes again. “Loud, really loud- a concert?” he corrected himself.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ichigo said, feeling hopeful and encouraged when Renji was able to bring some of it back on his own.

“No, but…” Renji gave a troubled frown. “No, that doesn’t make sense,” he muttered to himself. “There’s something else. Why we were there in the first place, I mean. What were we doing there?”

Again, Ichigo felt like he was hanging over thin air, over a fathomless pit of sadness and despair, and he was about to drop at a thousand miles an hour.  

“... Celebrating something,” he managed weakly.  
  


_‘It was our fifth anniversary,’_ he thought, chest tightening. _‘You asked me out on Valentine’s day five years ago. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that. You’ve never been bad with dates, Renji. You’d forget your name before you forget our anniversary.’_ At least, he’d always thought so.  
  


“What was it, something important?” Renji asked after twisting his mouth in silent frustration when nothing seemed to come.

“Yes,” Ichigo practically whispered, throat dry and achy.

Renji seemed deeply unhappy when he couldn’t remember. He was quiet for a long time, and at last, when Ichigo seemed fit to burst, hanging his head and looking at the floor in defeat, Renji held a hand out, insisting, “Don’t gimme’ any hints.”

Ichigo swallowed, watching as Renji drummed his fingers on his mouth, eyes flicking about. “It can’t be either of our birthdays, but then… Celebrating, god, what else would we celebrate?” He exhaled through his nose, at last looking to Ichigo for input. “Celebrating me, or you - or were other people there too?”

“...” Ichigo didn’t say anything, merely shifting his gaze towards his sneakers, but Renji must’ve been able to read his face.

“The both of us?” he surmised. Again, Ichigo didn’t reply, not moving other than to raise his head and catch his eyes. “Something we’ve worked hard on.”

“Very hard,” he rasped, clenching his hands into loose fists, as if he could hold onto what felt so fragile all of a sudden. He had to hold onto it, there was no other choice. Their five year mark. That couldn’t be so easily forgotten, could it? He had to have faith. Renji was a smart man. If it’d slipped his mind for the time being, he’d figure it out. He had to believe that.

Renji’s expression changed into this broken confused thing again. “No, but I…” He looked at his palms, placing one over the other and then picking it up like he was opening something, frowning at them. “I thought there was something else, I was gonna’ do something. I can’t think what.”

He was silent for a long couple of second and Ichigo watched him just sit and stare at his hands.

Renji then gave a shrug, sniffing and waving a hand. “It’ll come to me,” he assured, seeming to dismiss it as no big deal for the moment. Ichigo felt somewhat assured. He knew he had to give it time, but it all still felt so fresh and raw, like he might wake up and find it was all a dream, that Renji still lay asleep and motionless and nearly dead.

“If you think so.”

“I know it will.” Renji gave a grimace then, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. “I hate to ask this,” he began, giving Ichigo a side-eye, “but can you be a pal and take out this catheter?”

“...” Ichigo blinked at the abrupt change in topic, but appreciated the return to normalcy nonetheless. “If you promise not to pee all over me the second I do.”

“If you promise not to say anything about my tattoos,” Renji shot right back.

Ichigo frowned incredulously, because that was just a downright weird thing to say. He’s seen them a few hundred times by now. Why on earth would he choose to comment on them now?

“Why would-”

“Yeah, look, I got my dick tattooed, we all do crazy things sometimes,” Renji admitted, rolling his eyes with an ‘I know, I know, mom’ tone to his voice, as if awaiting some sort of inevitable teasing. Ichigo stared at him, lips parted.

“...”

“Plus it’s cold in here, so gimme’ a break,” Renji finished with a grin, obviously expecting a laugh, but Ichigo didn’t say anything.

Because he’d realized something. He’d vaguely suspected before when Renji had taken his hand away, producing this dark fear in the corner of Ichigo’s mind, this horrifying possibility that he’d refused to accept, but now he knew with certainty that Renji had forgotten something very important.  
  


    He didn’t remember.  
  
  


. . .  
  
  


  
The first time they had sex, Ichigo was nervous.

  
They were out in the middle of nowhere together in the woods, sharing an air mattress in their back-up tent, and that was only because it was raining and cowboy-camping in the rain was no fun.

Despite the relative impulsivity of the both of them, they’d actually been dating for a little over two years before getting very physical with each other. Ichigo’d never been a very cuddly person, and other than Renji initiating kisses and hugs and handholding when they were alone, their physical relationship had progressed very slowly.

That night though, they were in the tent together, the rain pelting the tarp roof, and after counting the time it took for the thunder to roll through after lightning lit up the bare poles of the tent and set scary looking shadows against the walls from the plants outside, they lay in silence side by side on the air bed.

The rain had drummed down around them for a few minutes, and then with little introduction other than a warm smile, Renji had leaned over and kissed him, placed his hands on him.

Ichigo didn’t know why it had gone further that time out of all the other times they’d gotten carried away kissing, but at some point, Renji sat back, and they spent a moment breathing heavily and looking at each other, and then they’d both started to undress.

His hands shook with nerves, and he didn’t know why he did, but he felt shy, even in the dark, even though they’d known each other for so long. They’d likely even seen each other this way before, in the locker room at the public pool, changing together while sleeping over at Rukia’s - somehow, his hands still wouldn’t stop shaking, so much that he couldn’t unbutton his shirt, could barely push his jeans down over his legs and pull them off his ankles when they got stuck on his socks.

He jumped as the thunder sounded right above them, rattling the tent, the rain coming down hard.

“Relax,” Renji laughed lightly, helping his fumbling hands around the buttons, taking his shirt off and laying him back, covering his bare body with his own and pressing their mouths together.

Through the storm, Renji sang to him like he always did when he wanted to make him laugh, keeping his voice low, his mouth brushing against his ear.

“I can't see me lovin’ nobody but you for all my life,” Renji hummed, voice sinking into a whisper. Ichigo snorted, and didn't feel as nervous anymore, quivering under Renji's warm hands. “When you're with me, baby, the skies are blue for all my life.”

It was all but pitch black, and all Ichigo could hear was the rain outside, and it should’ve made him sad, but inside, all he felt was Renji’s warmth and his love surrounding him.

The rain had stopped by the time they were through, and they went out together in the humid mosquito-infested air, stepping carefully over the moist ground, and looked at the sky.

“Ichigo, look at the stars!” Renji said in amazement.

“Why’s it so dark tonight?” he whispered, standing at Renji’s side, letting Renji hold his hand in his and rub his knuckles with his thumb.  
  


    Renji turned his head towards him, smiling. “It’s a new moon.”  
  


New moon, huh? It didn’t feel like anything new. Ichigo looked up at the sky and saw nothing but this endless darkness and emptiness of the soul. The light of the stars wasn’t enough to illuminate anything, not like the moon was.

They stayed out for a long time, looking at the sky together and holding hands, eventually laying on the ground together on their tent’s canvas bag. Ichigo’s butt was still soaked and cold against the ground, but he didn’t move, laying at Renji’s side.

“Ichigo…” Renji began somewhat questioningly, gazing out above him with this soulful bittersweet light in his eyes. “What do you think happens after this?” He looked over at Ichigo for an answer.

Suddenly uncomfortable, he felt hot all over and overaware of all the places Renji had touched and kissed him, the way his body still throbbed at having joined together with Renji’s. That warm thing they’d shared, the pleasure, the passion, and the intimacy, hiding away together in the rain… Renji didn’t think that had been a mistake, did he?

“Well… nothing has to change much, does it?” he muttered uncertainly.

“What? Oh, no, I don’t mean that,” Renji shook his head. “I mean, after we die.” He looked back up to the sky, thousands of pinpricks of light in the endless blackness opening up above them. “Do you think we go out there?...”

Ichigo looked up with him and was quiet for a long time. His human eyesight was bad enough that if he focused on any individual star, it dimmed if he looked directly at it, dimmed to utter blackness. If he looked slightly to either side, he could sense it was there, could see its glow through his periphery.

He didn’t answer Renji immediately, nor did he pretend not to know what he was asking.

Ichigo didn’t believe in an afterlife. When there were questions he couldn’t answer, like, ‘where did we come from,’ ‘what happens after we die,’ he didn’t pretend to know the answer, but he didn’t make up things to make that endless black, that nothingness less scary, more bearable, more _feeling_ somehow, as if the infinite universe somehow cared about him as an individual, his tiny insignificant life and what would happen to it once it snuffed out. He didn’t think anything happened at that moment of passing, but of course, he had no way to confirm it. Nobody actually does.  
  


           “I don’t know.”  
  


“It’d be nice,” Renji said, “to be a star.” He shifted contentedly against the ground next to him, his warm shoulder touching Ichigo’s. “I mean, even stars don’t last forever, but imagine how much you’d see as a star,” he marveled. “It’s gotta’ be an amazing view up there.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo agreed. “It’d take longer for the world to forget you’d existed.”

“Because you’d shine for such a long time?” Renji inquired, turning to look at him, hand on his stomach.

“Yeah.”

Ichigo looked out at the deep nothingness of infinite space, the origin behind everything, the greatest mystery humankind has ever faced. When Ichigo lost people, when someone died, there was nothing lingering behind for him. It was the big sleep, the endless blackout. You get one chance, and once it’s done, they were gone and lost forever, they joined that nothingness.

The only thing left behind is the warmth living in the hearts of those that once knew them. The only thing that survives is memory. Without memory, there was nothing but that endless emptiness.

Ichigo thought of that night, the first time they’d made love, the way he could remember it perfectly despite hardly being able to see or hear anything through the pitch black or the thunder. He thought of any number of nights they’d camped out in the summer heat, fireflies dancing, stars twinkling. He thought of all the good times they’d had, the themeparks, the fishing in the pond, the digging in the sand, the long rides on the train, and endless, endless pictures smiling together. All those things were tiny little lights set up in an elaborate web they’d strung up. He remembered those things and that love burned within him, a soft warm glow that was always there, lighting up the nothingness.

  
But Renji - all those things were gone, because Ichigo understood now that Renji didn’t remember.  He didn’t remember any of it. Those memories were lost.  
  


It’s as if it never happened. It’s as if Renji had never loved him. It’s as if all those shared memories and laughs and all the times they’d made love, all the times he’d told Ichigo ‘I love you’ - it’s as if it’s been erased.

It was such a silly thing too, to not realize that Ichigo already knew about his tattoos because he’s seen him naked before, but such a silly thing as that was a knife in his heart, because it meant the nothingness has already crept in and stolen part of his life away.  
  


All those things, all of their love, Ichigo might as well have imagined it.

And now, Renji looked at him, his smile faltering as he cocked his head to the side at Ichigo’s silence, his eyes uncomprehending.  
  


          He really didn’t remember, did he.  
  


It was a new moon yet again, only this time it was far worse. Without the gentle illumination of the silver moonlight, there was nothing to rely upon except the stars, and one by one, the stars in their web had winked out, leaving only endless darkness behind.

 

. . .  
  


_Don’t kid yourself and don’t fool yourself: this life could be the last and we’re too young to see._


	5. Starlight

_[I just](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G9_5ZQYXVY) wanted to hold you in my arms. _

_. . ._

 

It would almost be funny if it weren’t so sad. Renji knew what year it was, he remembered his accomplishments, his new job; everything. He even seemed to remember that the two of them lived together.

The only thing that was gone was him - or _them._ It was like he’d erased it from every other memory.

If Ichigo had coped with all the pain of the past few weeks, this was finally too much, and at the realization, Ichigo pretty much just shut down.

He wished he’d been the one driving. He wished he’d been the one to forget, or both of them together. At least then they could’ve started over maybe, at least then Ichigo would’ve never known he’d lost anything so beautiful.

He knew he shouldn't be selfish. For now he should just be happy that Renji was alive and mostly okay. To know that a piece of Renji was gone though, that it might be lost forever, Ichigo didn't know what to do, what to say to him. 

Renji had other visitors coming in to see him now, so at least Ichigo wasn’t completely alone with this black hole that had opened up beneath him. That wasn’t to say that he was sociable. He just sat there numbly as Renji’s friends came in to give wellwishes and see with their own eyes that he was alive and kicking. With Renji’s friends there - and he had a lot of them - Ichigo didn’t have to face his grief just yet. 

He didn't have a breakdown, but he could feel it building there deep inside of him. He must still be in shock, but he wasn't sure, didn't know what was wrong with him. For all his skills taking care of others, he never had been very good at taking care of himself.

At last it was time for them all to go home. It felt weird to leave Renji there, after having rushed in earlier that day. Of course the rational part of him had known Renji couldn’t come home immediately, but it felt like it somehow. Coming in and seeing him wake up had felt like getting him back. Not anymore.

Renji still needed to sleep over for one more night, and as Ichigo left the hospital without a goodbye kiss or much more than a ‘see you later, bud,’ the nails were just driven further in - because to Renji, he was just Ichigo again, his buddy, his good friend. He wasn’t his boyfriend now, not his partner, not his great love. 

And really, Ichigo was glad that he wasn’t allowed to stay overnight, because he had to get out of there. He had to go home. He didn’t know what else to do.

Truth be told, he’d been avoiding their home as much as possible until now, because without Renji there, the house was really lonely. Even if they weren’t spending time together - and most of the time they were - Renji was always there doing something, bumbling around and singing and shit, or leaving him love notes to find. That all was going to change.

The lonely feeling that was already swallowing Ichigo up, it was going to be there all the time.

     _'Don't get hysterical. There's still hope. It might come back in time. It might.'_

He told himself this, but he didn't know how it could come back, not if Renji could lose something that big in the first place. There hadn't been a thing in their lives that they didn't share, didn't do together, not a place in Renji's brain that he should be able to hide from him.

He didn't know why he hadn't just told Renji right then, when he hadn't remembered. He didn't know why he hadn't just kissed him or told him he'd been worried because he loved him - told him in a very calm and sarcastic tone that of course he knew what his dick tattoos looked like because they don't always do it with the lights off - but for some reason the words had gotten stuck, and now it felt like a cage. It felt too late to break it to him and tell him,  _'Don't you know what we are to each other? I was everything to you.'_

  
  
           'I was supposed to be. You always told me I was.'  


He'd thought he'd been ready for this possibility, for Renji not waking up right, maybe not even recognizing him. He'd just never considered that Renji would remember him, but not  _them._  


             And now he didn't know what else to do.  


Ichigo numbly opened the door, the whole place smelling stale. His cats ran up to his feet eagerly, but he walked past them with the bag of clothing scraps the hospital had sent home.

Ichigo stood at the counter and set the bag down, going through it. Most of Renji’s clothes were in shreds, stiff with dried blood. They’d cut them off of Renji when he’d been admitted. There was an old t-shirt, a pair of jeans with the holes in the knees, boxer-shorts cut neatly down the sides, Renji’s bandannas, completely crusted over with blood. His wallet had been taken out of the back pocket of his pants and given to Ichigo earlier, along with his cell phone. The only thing in here that was salvageable was Renji’s coat, his leather jacket. It had been in the back seat of their now mangled car, and hadn’t needed to be cut off to save his life.

As Ichigo held the coat up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in the leather, lifting the collar to his nose to smell-check, he felt something heavy fall against his leg. Too much stuff in the pockets, then. He pulled the coat back and went through it, turning the pockets out to find some coins, a stick of gum, and the useless key to his old motorcycle, the sentimental ass.

As he spread the coat out on the counter, he noticed a large lump in the front, but couldn’t figure out for a moment what it was. Finding a hidden zip on the inside, he opened up an inner pocket and put his hand inside. When it didn’t turn out to be more change, he pulled it out. A jewelry box?

  
                  No.... No, this wasn't fair. 

 

He held the small felt-covered cube in his hands and stared at it, heart beginning to pound uncontrollably. His eyes blurred with tears and he simply held it in shaking fingers, because it can't be what he thinks it is, he doesn't believe it. Ichigo tried to open it, but at last couldn’t make himself do it, his throat closing up completely, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there and hang his head and weep, just one wretched painful sob echoing in the quiet kitchen.  


_‘There was something else. I was gonna’ do something. I can’t think what.’_  


Ichigo hung Renji’s coat up by the door and put the box back inside, walking away from it. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t seen it.

But he can’t. There’s no way to forget something like that. He punched the wall as he walked down to their bedroom and laid in bed, feeling the cats leap up and curl against his back. And he finally cried.

The tears come out on their own, but the bitter sobs hurt, harsh and choked, ripping up his insides on the way out of his chest. He clutched a pillow to his face so he didn't have to hear his own weeping.

  
           He’s lost everything.

 

. . .

 

                     Renji asked him out on Valentine’s day.  


He'd been surprised in that moment. It had seemed completely out of the blue, and yet when Ichigo thought back on that moment, he really should have seen it coming. He should’ve known Renji’d been acting differently for a while, that he’d been planning something just from the way his eyes sparkled.

At the time though, they’d both been so young, Ichigo only nineteen, and he remembered that all he’d thought for a full five seconds as he stood in the university’s parking lot was that it couldn’t be happening, not to him, it couldn’t be real - but there it was on a paper heart: _‘I’ve fallen for you, won’t you be mine?’_ And a flower, how had Renji known he liked flowers? Ichigo wasn’t a romantic or one to be swayed by overly sappy gestures, but he actually really did like all the cheesy hallmarks that he hadn’t really connected with Valentine’s day before then. Chocolate was his favorite food and he liked flowers, but he’d never given them as a gift, nor received them, and definitely not as an open declaration of love.

And Renji had known, he’d known just how to charm him, how to stand there after never having dropped a word to him to give him cause to suspect how he felt before that day, how to look in his eyes and show his sincerity.

Valentine’s day was a day for women to show their true feelings, and yet there Renji was, confessing his love to him, and Ichigo felt like the earth had fallen out from underneath him, or maybe it wasn’t the earth falling away, maybe he’d been the one to float off into space - because he felt absolutely weightless.

“I got chocolate too,” Renji said at last, when Ichigo still didn’t speak, just standing there with one foot behind him in retreat, his expression one of open shock.

And right there, if Ichigo hadn’t been completely charmed already, Renji had him.

“Damn,” he whispered, swept off his feet, and Renji grinned, tentatively reaching out to him, waiting for Ichigo to take his hand and accept him.  


       He had.  


Ichigo couldn't tell you why he did it, but in the moment, it hadn’t even been a question whether or not to take it. Of course he had. His fingers slid into Renji’s palm like a dream, and Renji’s thumb skated over his knuckles as they fit their hands together. Renji let out a breath of relief, a small laugh escaping, and Ichigo smiled back, just a little.  
  
He knew he hadn't loved Renji then, not yet, hadn't really let himself think about the two of them together - maybe there had been something deep inside of him that had wondered, had wanted, but it had never come to life until that day.    Maybe it had been reckless to say yes so easily, but the newness of it, the excitement, all of it felt right - it had always been that way.   


  He’d never looked back on that decision with doubt, not even once.  

 

. . .  


_I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away, never fade away._


	6. In Your World

_[In your ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqmTQnW01qc)world, no one is crying alone. In your world, no one is dying alone. _

_. . ._

 

Ichigo eventually had to go on with life, as much as he wanted to bury himself in their bed and hold Renji’s pillow like he knew he’d never be able to hold Renji again - god, why hadn’t he held him more when he’d had the chance?

But a man only had so many tears inside him, and after that horrible night, Ichigo had cried them all. He knew he had to get up. He felt disgusting. He should wash himself and get up and eat, but he didn't feel like he had the energy. 

Renji was going to be coming home tomorrow. Rukia's flight had arrived sometime last night and she would be there in time to pick him up with Ichigo and spend some time with the both of them at home.

Ichigo knew he had things to prepare. He had to pull himself together. He'd dragged himself through life before when he felt a dead heart sitting inside him, but it has never once been as hard as this.

  
      Giving up on himself isn't an option though. Renji was coming home and Ichigo can't let him and Rukia see him so pathetic.

With a clawing sense of despair, Ichigo realized that he would have to move out of their bedroom. He sat up in bed and looked around with tired red eyes, knowing this was the last time he would sleep here. Renji remembered that they live together, but he didn’t remember the other things, and Ichigo didn’t want to upset him.

Ichigo’d asked the doctor in private about amnesia, and he’d been told not to force anything to come back, not to surprise Renji with anything if possible - especially not something big. It could cause distress or even emotional outbursts, and that’s the last thing Ichigo wanted.

If he's honest though, even though he knew he had to be patient and try to let it come back slowly, drop hints maybe and hope Renji would realize - if he told the truth, Ichigo was afraid of what would happen. He had this sick feeling of doubt that even if he did tell Renji, it might not all come rushing back. Renji might not remember that they’re lovers ever again.

And what was there to do about it. He’d just have to cope. Put on an act. Play pretend and go along with Renji’s assumptions. If Renji didn’t remember, then there was nothing for it.

So Ichigo made himself get up and feed the cats. He dug Renji’s tapedeck out from his cluttered desk and snapped one of his stupid cassettes in, one he’d made for Ichigo just after first getting together.

Renji would put these on when he was cleaning or cooking and would sing around the house, stupid silly guy that he was, and although it could get annoying, Ichigo was constantly reminded of how much Renji loved him, how Renji felt about him, and he couldn’t help but feel adored. Renji had never minded that Ichigo wasn’t very affectionate, wasn't very warm. He’d never let it stop him from telling Ichigo how much he was cared for.

He’d used to sing Ichigo _Wham!_ and _the Beatles,_ _Michael Jackson, Queen, Elvis,_ basically any love-song that was catchy enough that millions of people had already heard and fallen in love with and sung to death - somehow it still sounded brand new and heartfelt when it came on the radio, because Ichigo remembered Renji playing karaoke with his shitty tapedeck around the house or in the car or in the mall.

     Ichigo turned over one of the dustier tapes, checking the back.   _‘  'Build me up, Buttercup.   The Way You Make Me Feel.    God Only Knows.   Baby, Now That I’ve Found You.’  Shit, it feels like such a long time ago he made this for me. That old man, I don’t even know how he made this thing.'_

He let the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9rU5gHcsAw) play through the house while he changed the bedding and made up the guest bed, airing out the guest room and moving some of his things in there so that when Renji came home, he could at least _try_ to lie and say that this clearly unused room had actually always been his own bedroom. He told himself it was only for a little while, just until Renji remembered.

He took his favorite pillow and switched it with the one in the guest bed, swapping the pillowcases. He ended up moving his clothes out of their closet too, stuffing them in the guest dresser. He put Renji’s coat and jewelry box away into the bottom of the closet where Renji wouldn't find it, along with their travel scrapbooks.

The calendar has to go too, Renji’s drawn far too many hearts on it, and the pictures of them that Renji has up, those have to come down.

He separated his comb and Renji’s brush to different shelves in the side-cabinet of the bathroom, and he threw out the box of condoms under the sink. Their razors were together too, and had to be moved.

He’d been taking it all rather well, he thought, with a hard set to his jaw, refusing to let the ache in his chest move up into his throat and face, but it really hit him hard when he saw their toothbrushes together in one cup by the sink, the fluorescent pink and the lime green. It was hard not to get choked up when he had to move them apart to opposite sides of the sink. He didn’t know why, but that was when it felt final.

_‘You might think I’m foolish, but baby, it’s not true. You might think I’m crazy, but all I want is you.’_

  
He gripped the sides of the sink, staring into the mirror, silence ringing in his ears enough that the [music](https://youtu.be/1ZZQuj6htF4) tuned back in to his notice. He could hear it floating in from across the house. The moment he paid attention, it came back with a painful clarity.

Renji had sung that one to him on the hood of a car after they and their friends had gone out for karaoke and gotten pretty drunk. He could practically still hear it, could still see it.

He checked the kitchen last, and when he couldn’t find anything amiss other than a love note on the fridge that he’d missed that he quickly crumpled in his fist before he could read it, he flopped back against the counter with a huff and looked around at his house, his house now ripped apart into two pieces, mine and yours.

He can feel another meltdown building, but it's not tears this time, it's anger again, hot and hateful - it's not fucking fair.

Before he could start smashing the plates and ripping the wallpaper down, he got a text from Rukia, and decided to get a bus out to the hospital now. It was around time anyway. He just hoped he was strong enough.

_‘I want to love you, pretty young thing! You need some loving and a love affair, and I’ll take you there!’_

He turned the tapedeck off. He turned Renji off, the picture he had in his mind of him smiling and trying to make him dance, right here in the hallway. Renji’d sung that one to him so, so many times, and now was the moment it set in, as he hit the square ‘stop’ button, that he was never going to hear it again.

There had been so many opportunities, and if he’d known that he’d one day look back on all the times he’d scorned Renji’s efforts to dance with him, all the times he’d pushed Renji off with annoyance, if he’d known, he would have done things differently - why had he pushed him away, why hadn’t he just fucking danced? So many times he’d said no, why, god, why had he fought it?

When he got to the hospital, Rukia was already there, and Renji was dressed and walking around, signing his discharge papers.

"Hey lazy-ass, about time you showed up!" Renji called. He still looked a little weak on his feet, but other than that, everything was alarmingly normal. 

Except that Ichigo couldn't speak - even though he knew it would give him away immediately, he just couldn't say a single word. He watched Renji raise an eyebrow, as if wondering what his problem was, but Ichigo just turned away.

"Look, I know you're still all fucked up over shit, but I'm fine now," Renji needled, but Ichigo grit his teeth and clenched his fists, fighting down the impulse to scream, to grab him and  _shake him._  

After hugging Rukia hello, Ichigo was altogether quiet on the way back to the apartment. He watched Renji rather carefully as he stepped through the door, searching his face for any signs of recognition.

Renji did seem to step in rather slowly, looking around with a frown creasing his brow. He looked down blankly when Apple and Orange ran up to his feet, both meowing in excitement and standing and putting their paws on his knees, eager to be pet.

“There _are_ cats here,” he said in confusion, leaning down to pet Orange on the head, only to blink with a frown as Orange enthusiastically rubbed his head against Renji’s palm, purring. “...” Renji looked up and gave Ichigo this weird look, and for a second, Ichigo thought he might…

Renji squinted, jaw slackening. "Wait," he said slowly, pointing at Ichigo. "Why'd you pretend you were screwing around before then?" Ichigo's heart pumped hard, but he just gave a slow shrug.

He looked back down at the cat, scratching behind his ears, and for a moment longer, it looked like something might be dawning on him...

 

                But then it was gone.

Renji was a smart guy, and there was no way he wouldn't catch on to something being weird eventually, but for now, he let it go, too happy to be home. He'd been his usual self from what Ichigo had seen on the way home, although he was a little wobbly and unbalanced, perhaps - but somehow, Rukia, perceptive as always, seemed to have realized that something was off anyways. Really, Ichigo should have expected it.

Even so, when Renji was in the other room - “Aw sweet, my tapedeck!” - Ichigo was taken off guard when she approached him in the kitchen.

“Something’s up,” she stated, eying him rather carefully, as if she could sense he was close to the point of explosion, or worse, breaking down.

He knew he was being too obvious. He should seem glad that Renji was home and well, but all he could manage was a stoic silence. Of course Rukia would notice. It would be impossible not to, and he knew that it probably would only take a day or so for Renji to catch on too. 

  
         "Something's wrong."

Ichigo didn’t want to talk about it, he really didn’t, and as much as he’s learned not to show weakness to Rukia, he’s never been good at lying to her either. “Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding flat and dead in his ears.

“Tell me.”

Ichigo turned toward her and was surprised to feel his throat tighten up and his chest compress simply at the sight of her face. Her expression was hard, but not harsh, her eyes steely, but not cold. She knew that something was very wrong. She’d always known those kind of things.

“Something’s wrong with him, isn’t there,” she pinpointed.

Ichigo tried to tell her yes, tried to tell her that Renji had lost something that Ichigo didn’t know how he was going to live without, but he doesn’t think he can say it without putting his fist through the drywall.

“It’s like…” He tried clearing his throat, but there was no point. There's no point trying to keep her from hearing him get emotional. “It’s like we were never...” he croaked, his nose beginning to run.

He picked his head up and told her at last, “He doesn’t remember any of the stuff we used to do together.” Rukia’s mouth slackened, but she didn’t speak. “Or… or what we meant to each other,” he managed, finally lifting his wrist to his forehead.  


     “He doesn’t remember, Rukia,” he wrenched out, feeling himself crumple.  


It was just a sign of how bleak things were that she didn’t beat him over the head for daring to get that choked up. All she did was stare at him with these sad soulful eyes, and it felt like the final nail in the coffin that she wasn’t trying to snap him out of it. It meant she didn’t think he was being silly over nothing. It meant she didn't think there was hope either. It meant there was nothing to be done.

“Oh Ichigo…” She was close by, but he couldn’t see her through blurred vision. Her hand touched his hand. “I’m so sorry.” It didn’t help, because an apology from Rukia meant it was over, there was no point in fighting - but then, what else could she say?

“How could he forget that?” he croaked, voice cracking.  


_‘-_[just ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djV11Xbc914)live or play my worries away, you’re all the things I’ve got to remember. You’re shying away. I’ll be coming for you anyway.’  


They stood in the kitchen wordlessly, vaguely hearing Renji screwing around obliviously somewhere in the back with his music playing. Ichigo sniffed and wiped his eyes with the skin between his pointer and thumb. God, look at him falling to pieces over this. He’d always thought after his mom died, his heart had hardened into a stone, but it looked like that soft center had never gone away.

He knew it might be reversible. He knew this might only be temporary and everything might come back to Renji in time, but it was hard to hope - and damn if it didn't hurt. Standing here in the kitchen with Renji singing like a loon, so close by but unreachable, it felt just like the old days, but somehow it hurt. It hurt like it was never going to not hurt ever again.  


_‘Take on me, take me on, I’ll be gone in a day or two.’_  


Ichigo sniffed again, nodding to himself and speaking rather flippantly. God, he was a mess. It didn’t really matter anymore, did it. There was no point in pretending he was fine, because there was nothing he could do to stop being not fine.

“I saw the box too,” he said. “I know what he was gonna’ do. I don’t know why I didn’t realize before, I should’ve guessed.” He scrubbed his face with his knuckles and then his head, ruffling and pulling on his hair as he growled out, “I’m a fucking idiot.” He shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Our five year anniversary on Valentine’s Day night, it’s just like him to plan something like that. It’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.”

He could barely fight back tears saying it out loud like that, his voice wobbling dangerously.

Fuck, he could hardly stand it, knowing the depth of his loss. Even after all this time, Renji still tried to sweep him off his feet, still tried to surprise him, still was crazy about him - enough so that he’d wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.    


          And now…  


"But he went and got fucked up before he could tell me," Ichigo spat. "And now he doesn't remember."

Rukia put a hand to her mouth, looking away. Ichigo nodded some more, scrubbing his eyesockets out with his wrists, because that’s when he knew it was over. God, it was really over. Rukia didn’t even know what to say to him.

“Oh Ichigo,” she said after a time, considering her words carefully, troubled. “He’d been so excited. He… I helped him. Pick it for you, I mean. I helped him,” she repeated slowly, as if reconsidering whether it was cruel to tell him or not.  
  
Ichigo knew then how pathetic he must be at the moment if instead of hitting him to perk him up, she was actually pitying him, being gentle. Rukia was never gentle.

“Ichigo, I’ve never seen him that excited,” she tried to comfort, looking up at him with her eyebrows pushed together. He hung his head and smiled horribly; he'd never known he could hurt this bad. “You have to know, Ichigo, how much he loves you.”

Ichigo sniffed, giving a half-shrug. “Yeah well, now he doesn’t.” After a second, he couldn’t stand Rukia’s sad eyes any longer, and snapped at her unnecessarily, “‘Cause he fucking forgot all about all that!”

“It’s still early on. It’ll come back to him.” She said it, finally trying to comfort and talk sense to him, but he didn't want to hear it, didn't want the cruel  _lie_ that hope was to be told to him anymore. Everything was already fucked up, so why not just fucking destroy him with the truth, why not hit him with it and watch him crumple up in agony, wither away.

“And what if it doesn’t?!”     He wanted her to face that, to face the deep dark fear that has been torturing him. He didn't want to be the only one.

“It will.” She's calm and let him shout at her, and she doesn't tell him to get a grip, doesn't strike him, doesn't scorn him - she just let him turn his tear-streaked face on her and bare his teeth and  _rage.  
_

"You don't know that! How can you possibly fucking know that!" he barked. 

"I have to believe that it will, Ichigo, and so do you," she said solemnly, but it just angered him further, because believing something really hard didn't make it true, hoping really hard didn't mean you'd get your wish. Why wouldn't she just admit that his life was over, that he'd lost the thing he loved most?  


_“Rukia.”_  
  
  
“What’s happenin’?” Renji wondered, coming down the hall with a curious frown. Ichigo turned towards the sink with a grunt, bracing his hands on it.

“Upset that I don’t visit more often,” Rukia brushed off, and Renji seemed to instinctively trust her answer, which gave Ichigo a few moments to wipe his eyes and take a few breaths.

Fucking look at him, losing his marbles and shouting at Rukia. He had to get his shit together.

Rukia took mercy on him and ushered Renji in the living room, which gave Ichigo a few moments alone to wash his face and take a drink of water. 

To prevent another meltdown or shouting match - because if he got going on Rukia, Renji would take her side almost every time - Ichigo didn’t say much for the rest of the evening. Thankfully enough, Rukia decided to stay late. She didn’t say anything, but Ichigo knew it was because she knew he wasn’t ready to be alone with Renji just yet.

Renji was ecstatic to have her there at any rate. Ichigo knew he missed her dearly when she was away. He did too.

When she finally went after midnight, Ichigo almost asked her to stay the night, because he didn’t think he could- he didn’t think…  


          He’d been trying not to think about it until now, having left their bedroom door shut, but they were going to sleep apart tonight, like strangers. He didn’t want to do it.  


Rukia had to go though, but as she hugged each of them goodbye - separately, which was strange enough, as usually they squeezed her between them, sandwiching her - she held Ichigo’s hand tightly as they separated. She told him she’d check in on them, she’d call, but Ichigo still clung onto her tiny hand stubbornly for a second.

When the door closed, for a moment, Ichigo didn’t know what to do or say, feeling like a stranger in his own home. Maybe that was it. It was Renji’s apartment again, and not their home.

He swallowed through his dry throat and watched numbly as Renji stood at the door with his hands on his hips and let out a breath with a rather sad smile. Ichigo turned to the side, hardly able to bear to look at him.

Renji dropped down into a squat when Orange slowly wandered towards him. He lifted his tail and purred when Renji pet him a little on the back, then flopped over and rolled around in contentment as Renji rubbed his belly.

Ichigo grimaced. Orange always bit and clawed his hand when he tried to pet his stomach, but he loved Renji, always rubbing his body on his legs and purring. Ichigo figured it was because Renji played with him and snuck him food from his plate.

“I remember now,” Renji said slowly, staring down at his cat with a thoughtful crease to his brow. “We got them at the shelter, right?” He looked up to Ichigo for confirmation, but Ichigo turned away, shoulders tensed.

“Yeah,” Renji said to himself with more confidence, “And we named them Apple and Orange because they’re so alike but still don’t get along.” And if it already wasn’t too much to bear, it was even worse when Renji added carelessly, “Like us.”

Ichigo clenched his fists and grit his teeth. “More like I named Apple and you copied me. You were gonna’ name Orange, ‘Kitty.’”

“Hey,” Renji complained. “Kitty’s a good name.” He shook his head and frowned again in bewilderment, rubbing Orange on the stomach, ruffling and pulling on his fur, then smiling and wiggling his finger as Orange began to bat at him with his paws. “Man, I dunno’ how I got it in my head that I didn’t have a cat.”

Ichigo stood there for a second and then went to pour himself a glass of water. Renji stood up behind him and stretched with a long yawn.

“I know I told Rukia I feel great, but I am ass-tired, dude,” he mumbled, scratching his stomach and blinking blearily.

“Go to bed then,” Ichigo brushed off with a grimace.

“Kay’,” Renji hummed, wandering away. “I’m gonna’ shower.”

Ichigo nodded, putting his glass in the sink and then walked to his new room, stopped… He heard Renji get in the shower, and put his hand on the doorhandle. Go to bed. Just go to bed.

He cursed himself, walking back down the hall to the bathroom and leaned carefully towards the door, listening from outside.

He told himself it was because it was Renji’s first day back home and he was still weak and a little off kilter, but Renji didn’t slip, he didn’t hit his head. He did hum while he was in there though, his voice echoing. Ichigo eventually leaned against the wall, sliding down to squat in the hallway, his heart aching.

He nearly fell asleep from it. He’d been so tired, so restless lately, and finally hearing Renji humming in there, he felt his eyes drooping even as his throat closed up with emotion again.

When Renji opened the shower door to get out, Ichigo snapped awake and scrambled to his feet to go into his- no, wrong way, shit!

Ichigo quickly shut himself in the guest room and threw himself into the bed under the covers.

He lay there for a long time, listening to Renji brush his teeth and go to bed, and Ichigo soon found after he heard their bedroom door close that he couldn’t get to sleep. He shoved himself into the pillows, remaining stubbornly awake for who knows how long.

At last, he heard a quiet knock on his door, and at first he thought he’d imagined it, but after the knock, the door opened. Ichigo almost sat up on reflex as Renji came shuffling in with a yawn and placed something on his bedside table.

“These were in my room,” he explained sleepily.

“Oh,” Ichigo replied robotically. “Thanks.” 

He looked. They were his pink reading frames. He must’ve forgotten them on his side of the bed, next to the clock, when he’d been cleaning earlier.

Ichigo shut out the light, his eyes red-rimmed, and he rolled over towards the wall and listened as Renji left the room and closed the door.  


. . .  


He and Renji were in a mattress store. Ichigo could remember that they’d just moved in together and then they’d gone to the mattress store not long after.

Renji’s house was furnished of course, but not for a couple, despite how much Ichigo came over anyways. After deciding to move in together, they’d gotten new dishware, towels, and a couple of do-it-yourself shelves to fit their combined movie, game, and CD collections.  Now they were looking for a new mattress and comforter set.

In the back of his mind, he knew Renji was taking it seriously, but it didn’t really look like it given how carefree he seemed. Ichigo figured he was still just riding the high of him having accepted his room key and agreeing to move in.

Ichigo was actually considering their choices quite carefully, trying to focus, but Renji kept walking off to look around. He could hear him singing to the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R14lGgHgVJM) playing overhead in the store and could see occasional flashes of his red hair as he wandered the aisles looking at the mattresses. He’d abandoned Ichigo when he stood there too long comparing the thread counts on the sheets.

He wanted to pick something good. Ichigo’d shared a room before in college. He’d never lived with a partner though, and he couldn’t deny he was excited when Renji’d called him up that morning to finalize the move. He was going to bring the last of his things to Renji’s- _their_ place, and close the lease on his own apartment today.

  
      ‘Cause you’re my lady, I’m your fool. Makes me crazy when you act so cruel. C’mon baby, let’s not fight. We’ll go dancing and everything will be alright.’  
  


Renji stuck his head around the corner for a second to check him and sing at him, then wandered away again.  _‘Wake me up before you go-go, don’t leave me hangin’ on like a yo-yo-’_

Ichigo shook his head, rolling his eyes, and then pushed his reading glasses up his nose to check the price booklet again.

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there when Renji finally made his rounds through the store back to him. “Ichigo, check this one,” he said, and Ichigo looked up, following him to test out another store bed.

Ichigo lay down on the test mattress while Renji leaped in next to him and got comfy with a satisfied groan, wriggling around. They lay on their backs next to each other and looked at the ceiling, considering. “Hmm,” Renji muttered, shifting.

Ichigo settled with his hands on his stomach, then rolled onto his side. That was how he usually slept. It felt okay to him.

Renji gave a long sigh, rolling towards him too. He smiled, playing with Ichigo’s hair a little. Ichigo turned his head away. “I’m happy we’re doing this,” Renji whispered, and Ichigo smiled back.

“Yeah, same,” he agreed.

Renji slipped something off his collar that Ichigo hadn’t even noticed. “Here, you almost forgot these.” Ichigo took his glasses back and put them on. He didn’t remember taking them off.  
  


. . .   
  


_Too broken to belong, too weak to sing along, I’ll comfort you, my friend, helping you to blow it all away._


	7. Interlude

Although they were jointly in charge of their summer trips, this year Renji picked a location that was overly ambitious. He explained that he wanted to go camp and see the eclipse - which Ichigo would have been okay with if it weren’t for the fact that-

“It’s in the states this year,” Renji said.

Ichigo didn’t say no immediately, which was his first instinct, but he _had_ told Renji he could pick what they would do this summer. At last, after making lots of different _interesting_ facial expressions, Ichigo said, “Are you sure we can do this?”

Renji looked at him for a second and then, as if it were obvious, said, “Yeah.”

He sat on a stool at the counter in the kitchen, his laptop and a bunch of papers around him. It looks like he was pretty committed to this plan. Ichigo inwardly groaned, standing at his shoulder just behind him.

“Isn’t that gonna’ cost a ton though? How are we gonna’ stash all our equipment in a plane?” Waving a hand, Ichigo sighed and then said, “Plus, what, you want to see the Rockies or something?”

“No. The Tennessee mountains. Apareishan,” Renji read slowly from his computer.

“Appalachians,” Ichigo corrected. “Why do we have to go there? We have mountains here.”

“It’s an adventure though, babe,” Renji said with a coaxing smile, “It’ll be fun.”

Scowling, Ichigo huffed, “I’m not your babe.” Putting a hand on his hip and bumping his side against the counter, looking at Renji’s laptop screen critically, Ichigo was quiet for a time. Renji seemed somewhat deflated, shoulders drooping as he stared at all his plans. Ichigo, softie that he was, scowled, and at last muttered, “What are we gonna’ do for driving?”

Knowing Ichigo far too well, Renji immediately picked up on the way he hadn’t explicitly shut him down, and lit up at this realization. “I’ve got a buddy in the states who’ll lend us a truck and a camper for cheap. He’ll put us up when we get there too,” he said eagerly. Ichigo grimaced.

“I don’t wanna’ camp in a camper.”

“Ichigo, please, we can make this happen!”

Narrowing his eyes skeptically, Ichigo folded his arms and muttered, “Do you even know how to drive in the west?”

Renji grinned back almost gleefully, as if he realized that he was going to get his way in the end, that Ichigo would say yes but was just worrying aloud. “I have an IDP.”  
  


“Yeah, but do you _know,”_ Ichigo said loudly, scowling at Renji’s eagerness.  
  


“I checked the traffic laws, you’ll just have to read the signs to me,” Renji waved off.  
  


“So no then.”  
  


“I’m a fast learner.”  
  


“Renji, you can’t speak English!” Ichigo shouted frustratedly, “how are you going to talk to the police?!”  
  


“I can a little bit, I can read it, just not very fast.”  
  


    “Renji.”  
  


Batting his eyelashes at Ichigo and making kissy-lips, Renji hummed, “That’s why I’m bringing you, to help me.”

“Ugggggh.” Ichigo rubbed his face, exasperated. This was going to be a total shitstorm. “Can’t we just visit Rukia and climb White River again?” He was comfortable enough traveling to Beijing, since they’d done so successfully before. Going somewhere so far away and foreign seemed really ambitious.

“Ichigo, _please,_ I wanna’ see the eclipse,” Renji begged, turning and grabbing his shoulders. “You love outer space, don’t you wanna’ see it?”

“Renji, you know there’s a total eclipse here in like six months, right?”

“But it’s summer-time!” Renji complained. “We’ve gotta’ go and do!” He shook Ichigo around.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, fine, whatever, fine,” Ichigo agreed, groaning. “If you figure it all out, whatever, I’ll come.”

Hoping that was the last of it was foolish and naive, considering Renji’s determination and love of traveling and being outdoors. All Ichigo could do was adapt and accept his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, as always. He passed most of the springtime looking for sales on camping equipment and making a list of the stuff they could actually take through customs and what they’d have to buy in the states.

As the weeks wound down, on a rare free weekend, Renji had some friends over to play cards, and as Ichigo walked around the house packing some stuff, he heard Hisagi ask, “What’s he doing?”

“Oh, you know we’re going to go see the total eclipse!” Renji leaned back in his chair and called after him, “Ichigo, c’mere for a sec’.”

“Hm.”

“I forgot to ask, you have our passports and everything up to date?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo walked off then with a basket full of laundry.

“Why do you guys camp so much?” he could hear as he came back down the hall into the kitchen to grab a cucumber sandwich.

“Well, we hike together a lot, so…” Renji replied.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Ichigo muttered, taking a bite and leaning on the counter for a couple minutes. “Renji just likes peeing outside.” Renji’s friends laughed and Renji tried not to, pretending to scowl, narrowing his eyes, and made a swipe for him, but he just put his foot on Renji’s side and shoved him, then went into their room to read.  
  


    They flew out and landed in Nashville, and went through customs, which was really stressful and nervewracking, especially since Ichigo had to translate questions and instructions to Renji since he didn’t understand much English if it wasn’t written down - not to mention they were both exhausted after an eleven hour flight and arriving midday, which was weird considering it felt like it was like four in the morning.

Afterwards of course, his spirits lifted at the relief of having arrived in America with no incident, and he and Renji took a bunch of dumb selfies together with Renji’s selfie stick all around the airport, tourists that they were.

Renji’s buddy was there to pick them up, a loud guy named Bazz-B with a pink mohawk and a nut and bolt as earrings - _‘Americans,’_ Ichigo thought as Renji and his friend hugged and slapped each other’s backs.    “Hi,” he greeted with a handshake and a grimace of a smile. By the time they had driven back to Bazz-B’s place, Ichigo felt like a zombie, finding it hard to feel excited by the gorgeous sights of the mountains and pine forests around them, the boulders lining the roads, even though Renji still had the energy to take pictures and chatter away to his friend in the front seat.

He managed to stay awake long enough for Bazz-B to show them the stuff they could borrow, the truck and the camper, but eventually he started nodding off where he stood, and he and Renji fell asleep on the pull-out couch.

The next day they woke up at the crack of dawn and after Bazz-B sleepily told them how to work the hitch on the camper and gave them maps and tested out the GPS, they said goodbye and drove out through the mountains to this remote campsite in the woods that Renji had picked out.

Once they got there, things fell back into a routine, and Ichigo almost felt like they were camping at home in Japan, despite the change in scenery. They set up the campsite like pros, although it was kind of weird not having to pitch the tent and blow up the air mattresses, considering they had the camper this time around.

Eventually, as Ichigo fucked around with the foldable camping chairs and Renji was wandering around the campground with his camera and goggling at everything, Ichigo heard him calling for him.

“Ichigo!” He looked up, not seeing Renji. Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo told himself Renji had better not be in a bush or dicking around in the woods already. “Ichigo, get over here!”

“What?” He got up and walked off their campsite onto the road, following past other families with their tents and hammocks and cooking fires, looking for his boyfriend and eventually finding him next to some weird… box-looking things, yanking on one. “What?”

“I can’t…” Renji tugged really hard on a handle, throwing his weight into it. “I can’t open the trash can,” he huffed, winded. Ichigo folded his arms and grimaced.

“Read the directions then,” he told him, even though he knows Renji can't.

“I can’t.”

“You’re so sad, you’re like a baby.”

“Just help,” Renji said in exasperation, moving to the side as Ichigo stepped forward to read the panel on top of the trash-receptacle. Ichigo read it twice in disbelief.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Renji crowded next to his shoulder, demanding, “What? What?”

“This is to stop bears,” Ichigo said dully. “There are bears.”

“What?!” Renji shouted unnecessarily loudly, drawing attention, at which Ichigo glanced around and then slapped Renji’s shoulder to shut him up. “Awesome,” he said more quietly.

“What? No, _not_ awesome.” Ichigo grit his teeth when Renji kept smiling with this excited gleam in his eyes. “Renji! You know I hate bears!”

“Yeah, but I don’t know why though,” Renji hummed with a grin, watching as Ichigo showed him to stick his hand inside the metal tube and then turn a latch, then lift the lid of the bin so he could throw away his energy-bar wrapper.

“They dig through the trash, they’re ugly, uhhh, they’ve always got this dumb look on their face?” Ichigo muttered.

“You’re such a downer,” Renji dismissed as they walked side by side back to their camp lot.

“I’m not a downer, you’re just insane and you don’t think ahead!” Ichigo refused. “What if a bear tries to rip up our tent when we’re sleeping tonight?”

“Babe, we didn’t bring a tent!” Renji protested, trying to soothe his temper.

“In any case!”

“Whatever Ichigo, you’ve just gotta’ learn to open up your tender soul and love animals,” Renji joked sarcastically, walking up to the camper and pulling the metal door open.

“Isn’t liking kids enough?” Ichigo grumbled, standing there with his arms folded as Renji pulled out some cardboard boxes.

“Maybe. Let’s blow up the inner tubes.”

“Nahhh,” Ichigo refused, shifting from side to side and scratching his head, looking at the sky. “The sun’s going down.”

“You wanna’ just swim then?” Renji asked, at which Ichigo twisted his mouth to the side. “What?”

“...” Ichigo gave him one last look and then bolted down there, leaving him in the dust.  
  


        “Hey! Wait! I don’t have my trunks on!”

                  “I told you that you don’t think ahead!”  
  


“Oh for-” Renji slammed the camper door and ran after him as fast as he could, at which Ichigo started laughing, glancing back at him when he started to catch up. They ran down the trail right up to the edge of the lake and into the water, Renji soaking his clothes through.

They spent some time swimming in the lake and throwing handfuls of red clay at each other, painting their stomachs and arms and getting each other completely muddy with it.  
  
  
“Hey check it out, I’ve got your dumb tattoos,” Ichigo teased.

  
“Don’t be a dick! I thought you liked my tattoos!”

  
“Yeah, on you, but they make anyone else look dumb.”

  
“Yeah, yeah, I said don’t be a dick,” Renji hummed, floating on his back in the water. “Are you getting hungry yet?”

“Why, are you?”

“Yeah,” Renji mumbled, sticking his lip out, at which Ichigo stood up and dunked himself in the water one last time to wash the clay off and then got out at the shore, waiting for Renji to follow.

By the time they got back and changed into dry clothes and started the fire together it was really late. The bug light was on and was attracting mosquitos by the thousands. Ichigo was drenched in bug spray, but it was only seeming to halfway work. He just tried his best to cook the hotdogs, stomach growling, waiting for Renji to come back with the buns. He started to scowl to himself. How long does it take a guy to get the goddamn buns out of the camper?

Hearing a rustle, he glanced up, his heart jolting in surprise at the sudden noise, and then was immediately exasperated to find Renji squatting in the bushes around the campsite. “Oh my god, what are you doing?” Ichigo groaned.

“Ichigo, look at this guy.”

Immediately realizing he’d found some sort of animal, Ichigo scolded, “What the fuck, don’t touch it!”

Renji turned around and held something out in his hands. “It’s just a turtle, babe, shh.” Ichigo rubbed his forehead with a sigh.

“Promise me you’re not going to pick up any snakes when we’re here.”

“I promise,” he said readily. “That means I can still poke them with sticks, right?”

Ichigo stood up and walked over to him, demanding, “Renji, leave it alone.” Renji kept playing with it, ignoring him. “Renji.”

“Okay, little guy, just chill.”

“Renji.”

Ichigo crouched next to him and looked at it, and when he saw it, they both squatted in the dirt together and played with it and held it until the hotdogs got cold again.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDhgAYX-8YE) beds in the camper were too small to sleep in together, not having enough room to lie side by side, but Renji kept peeking over the edge of his bunk and hanging his torso down to chat, and eventually climbed down on him when he was trying to go to sleep. Ichigo was too tired to protest his heavy body atop his, and let Renji paw at him and kiss his neck. “Ichigo,” Renji breathed hotly against his lips, and Ichigo just held onto Renji’s bare sweaty back, somehow fitting into the cramped space together enough that they could make love.

Lingering jet lag caused them to wake up obscenely early, which meant they got the bathroom facilities to themselves. After walking down to the building - which was basically a row of separate family bathroom units - they looked around to make sure no one was around and then went into one room together and locked the door. After taking a shower and using the toilet, they wandered back and sat around in their camping chairs around the fire pit and brushed their teeth from their mugs.

They unhitched the camper with some difficulty and then drove out to hike. Ichigo immediately regretted his life choices as they climbed through the woods at a steep incline in the baking heat, water towels tied around their heads.

“Oh god, my legs,” Ichigo panted. Renji reached a hand down and helped him up and they took a break on a log stretching over the almost vertical path. "Why is it so goddamn hot in this fucking woods?" he wheezed as he slapped a branch out of his face.

“You want my water, Ichi?” Renji offered, breathless, “You should take a drink.” Ichigo gasped for breath and gave Renji a deadpan look for a couple of seconds.

“You didn’t say this path was this hard,” he breathed, fanning himself. “What is this, black diamond?”  
  


Renji winced. “... Uhh, it might be double black diamond?”  
  


“Renji.”  
  


“I know, I know, okay? But the view’s supposed to be gorgeous,” Renji insisted, “We’re almost there.”  
  


“You’ve said that a ton of times and it just keeps going,” Ichigo complained in exasperation.  
  


“I know. I know,” Renji agreed sheepishly. “We can make it though.”  
  


Ichigo met his eyes and sighed. “Okay,” he said finally, “Let’s do it.” Renji held his hand and they climbed and climbed.  
  


They at last made it to the top just as Ichigo’s legs turned completely to jelly. There was a small clearing in the trees and a large slanted rock outcropping that one could lay on and use to look over the edge onto the mountain valley. Ichigo put a hand to his eyes to shield the sun and marveled at how high they were, high enough that they could see the shadows of individual clouds moving over the forest below.

“Come look, Ichigo.” Ichigo wormed onto his belly and lay next to Renji on the hot boulder and looked out over the valley. After several peaceful minutes laying together, Renji made to stand up to take a picture. Ichigo grabbed his arm.  
  


“Don’t.”  
  


“I just want a picture.”  
  


“Renji, be careful. If you slip...”  
  


“I’ll be careful, I promise.”  
  


Ichigo still held his leg while Renji planted his feet and took some photos. “‘Kay got it. C’mere babe.” They turned around on their backs on the rock and Renji held up the phone to take a picture with the cliff behind them. “Say cheese.” Ichigo snorted as Renji put an arm around his shoulder and held up deuces. “Let’s eat somethin’.”

They ate bars and sat in the sparse trees on top of the peak, stretching their aching legs. Ichigo was leaning against a tree to rest when Renji suddenly shouted with his mouth full, “Lizard!” Ichigo’s head popped up.

That sent them into like twenty minutes of stalking it and corralling it until Renji at last slowly reached a hand out behind it and nabbed it, then cupping it in his hands. He showed Ichigo the little guy, black with a brilliant blue head. “So cute,” Ichigo whispered, rubbing its back with a finger.

The week passed far too quickly. For all Ichigo’s complaining, he truly had the time of his life with this one. Renji had picked a great place. They spent most of their time floating over the lake in a dual inner tube with shades on and a sealed bag of snacks, paddling from one little lake-island to the next to play in the woods. The nights were nice too, quiet time at the fireside cuddling in a blanket and putting tinfoil wrapped bananas, chocolate, and marshmallows in the fire and then eating them with forks and looking at the stars together. They caught fireflies in a jar until they stopped lighting up, and then went into the camper and made love themselves.

Ichigo didn’t think he’d forget that summer for as long as he lived. It would be impossible to with all the pictures they’d taken.

Their last day before traveling home was all business. They packed up their stuff and drove out as early as possible, but still managed to hit massive traffic jams all along the interstate, which was crowded with police cars and signs warning drivers not to slow down or stop on the side of the road during the eclipse. Renji started to get antsy when the sun started to change. “Shit, we’re gonna’ miss it!” he muttered.

“We’re not gonna’ miss it, it takes hours to cover up fully.”

“I wanna’ find a good spot though. We still have to make it past Nokusu-biru. There’s gonna’ be no parking left.”

“Knoxville - and we’ll pay some guy to park in their yard if we have to, just drive,” Ichigo said calmly, torturing Renji a bit by peeking out at the sun and squinting, which Renji couldn’t do from the driver’s side.

“C’mon Ichigo, that’s not fair. At least tell me what you see, what’s it look like?”

“Not much. A corner’s gone.” Renji gave a frustrated moan.

When at last they found a place a few hours later, the sun was more than half gone, but still way too bright to look directly at, which had Ichigo squinting and shielding his eye with his hand. Renji had just about panicked a few minutes earlier when the employees of the gas station they’d stopped at had refused to let anybody park to watch the eclipse, insisting that they keep business moving - meanwhile all the employees were outside watching the sky anyways. Luckily Renji didn’t speak english and so couldn’t yell at the poor kids directly, and Ichigo had just ignored his boyfriend’s anxious cursing, instead looking around for another business with the cheapest price sign for parking. Twenty five bucks?

They had ended up finding a vacant lot, and laid their beach towels out on the lawn. Renji was settling those in the grass while Ichigo stood nearby, squinting up at the sun. “Here, come sit down, Ichi-ban,” Renji called, swatting a hand towards his ankle, and when he didn’t answer, he looked up at what he was doing and shouted, “Hey! What are you doing!”

“Mm,” Ichigo hummed.

“Don’t look at the sun, are you stupid?” Renji grabbed his pant leg and gave a harsh yank, almost toppling him over, which got Ichigo ticked, but he sat down all the same. “You can’t look at the fucking sun!”

“Sheesh! I have sunglasses on!”

“No, Ichigo, you need blinders. You’re gonna’ hurt your eyes.”

“I’m just glancing at it,” he muttered petulantly.

“Yeah, yeah, put these on,” Renji said with a grimace, handing him these flimsy black-out shades that looked like 3-D glasses. Ichigo stuck his lip out but stopped his sulking as soon as he put them on.

“Whoaaaa,” he said, and he and Renji stared up at the orange piece of the sun for a few minutes until Ichigo coughed and spat out a bug.

They took a break and Renji read the little booklet of eclipse facts to Ichigo, both of them frequently peeking in the glasses to look at the orange sliver of sun disappearing. As it was almost completely obscured, they watched as the sky grew dark. They huddled together a little as the air got colder. “Pff, check out that bird.”

“Oh dang, he’s freaking out!”

Ichigo marveled as he heard the sound of crickets, chirping as if it were nighttime when it was only midday. “It’s almost time,” he mumbled, “Look, it’s… there it goes.” People began to scream in amazement when the sun was completely covered. Renji patted his arm, telling him to take the eye-shield off.

“Whoaaa.”

“Oh shit, quick! I made a [mix!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s)” Renji fumbled with his phone and then the two of them lay on the ground together and looked at the stars, the low sunset glow to the sky, and the eerie dark halo of the sun’s corona. Ichigo didn't think he’d ever seen anything so amazing.

Renji put his hand through his, and after two minutes passed, the sun began to peek out around the side, the sparkle of a diamond on a ring for just a moment before it became blinding once more. Renji brought their linked hands to his lips, kissing Ichigo’s knuckles.

“That was amazing,” Ichigo muttered, and Renji turned his head towards him and smiled, eyes sparkling. They made to kiss and then bumped noses hard.

“Fuck, I’m blind! I’ve got a black spot!”

“I told you not to look without the shades!”


	8. Dead Star

_Shame on you for thinking you’re an exception; We’re all to blame. Crashing down to earth, wasting and burning out, fading like a dead star._

. . .

 

The next week or so was really hard, since Renji was still home on paid medical leave under Ichigo’s observation, just to make sure he didn’t have any microsleeps, seizures, periods of forgetfulness,or any undue pain.

Even though Ichigo was supposed to have been watching Renji, he’d spent those days working overtime late into the night, in order to avoid him as much as he could. He’s checked on him of course, but in subtle ways, because he knew Renji wouldn’t appreciate being babysat - even if he currently needed to be. After they'd gotten together, Renji had loved that sort of thing, being taken care of when he was sick, but this wasn't the post-relationship Renji anymore. They weren't close enough for pride not to be an issue.

Anyway, in order to cope with it all, Ichigo had been quiet and distant lately, trying to keep from seeing Renji for at least most of the day.

What’s made it extra hard was that Renji’s been actively trying to get him to hang out. He couldn't work, so he was cooped up in the house and growing bored and lonely, so pretty much every moment Ichigo was actually home, Renji was on him to go do something with him. Ichigo kept ignoring him.

Renji wasn’t the only person he was doing his best to ignore. Grimmjow, as usual, kept pestering. He must know somehow that Ichigo read his messages despite never answering them, because he texted him morning till night. With Rukia gone, he almost was tempted to text back for once, because he desperately needed someone to talk to, however much he'd deny it.

Honestly though, Grimmjow probably already knew all about everything anyways. He had people in the family that kept him in the know, which was part of the reason that he didn’t go to see Grimmjow in person anymore. Ichigo was vaguely aware that he's been being low-key stalked for a few years now, but he didn’t really let it bother him. Grimmjow was fairly harmless; to him at least.

On Friday night, Ichigo didn’t drag himself home until about three o’ clock. He tried to keep quiet so as not to wake Renji, and when he came through the door, he found him asleep on the couch with the TV on, and for a second, Ichigo forgot. It was like any other night where Ichigo pulled overtime and Renji waited up for him despite Ichigo having earlier insisted that he get some rest.

He wouldn’t do it usually, but at that moment he wasn’t thinking, and feeling nothing but a sense of nostalgia and relief, Ichigo walked towards him, intending to send him to bed and accept a sleepy kiss, but of course he did remember, his brain coming to a screeching stop like faulty brakes on a February night.

And he just stood there and stood there and stood there until the commercials stopped, staring at the colors flashing on Renji’s sleeping face and thinking of all the things they'll never do again.  
  


  He walked away; he didn’t even turn the TV off.  
  


Ichigo couldn’t drag himself out of bed the next day. Renji came to check on him sometime after one o'clock, mildly concerned, and Ichigo finally managed to get up.

“You okay, kid?” Ichigo heard at his elbow as he stood in the kitchen in his t-shirt and underwear, holding his mug of Ovaltine, unshaven and hair a mess.

Ichigo looked up for a minute to see Renji giving him this look, like he was a funny sight and he was trying not to laugh. Ichigo was just not in the mood for it, in fact, the sight of him smiling put this hot pit of frustration in his stomach, steadily heating into rage.

“You look like the dead.”

“Whatever,” he grunted, nastily enough that he hoped Renji would just get the message and fuck off somewhere, but of course, no. Renji kept pushing him. Ichigo had forgotten that that's how they used to be together. Before they were a couple, they would argue a lot and Renji teased him almost relentlessly. Right now, it was like a window to the past, and that same aggravation welled up inside him, hot and uncontrollable. 

“You miss me that much while I was napping?” Renji joked, and Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched, a muscle tensing in his jaw so much that it knotted up and cramped. “Were you worried?” He must’ve thought it was funny to see Ichigo ticked off, because he kept pushing and pushing.

He got real close to Ichigo’s face, leaning on the counter and smirking at him. Ichigo trembled with rage, gritting his teeth together, but Renji only seemed more pleased with himself.

     
    “I’m gonna’ start thinking you like me or something.”

  
He didn’t know what it was, Renji’s carefree attitude or his fucking _face,_ but Ichigo snapped under the strain.

“Look, don’t fuck with me, okay? I’m not in the mood for this shit!” he shouted, baring his teeth like a wounded animal.

“Yikes.” Renji backed off, holding his hands up in appeasement, but Ichigo didn’t care. He felt hurt and all he wanted to do was hurt Renji back, whether it made sense or not, whether it was fair or not. “Don’t need to get in my face about it.”

He knew he'd been neglecting Renji and not watching over him as closely as he should have, he knew that he shouldn't be the one put in charge of taking care of Renji when he himself was a wreck, when he didn't have the inner strength that he _should_ have to get through this and treat Renji patiently like someone who loved him should. He knew that Renji should have better than him, someone who could've handled this with more grace - he knew this was all wrong, but he can't stop himself, can't stop lashing out in pain.

"I  _will_ get in your face," Ichigo hissed, because even now, Renji was treating him like he was overreacting, like seeing him break apart in front of him was just him getting a temper over something silly, when in reality he was trying and failing to cope with losing what he knew now had been the most important part of his life -  _love_ , love that he'd never seized onto when he'd had the chance, love he'd taken for granted, love he'd just let happen to him, that he'd never openly reciprocated, never said thank you for.

Maybe that's why he's so angry, because he was angry with himself really - because he will never, never get that chance again, to do those things, to tell Renji those things. 

And all that's left to do was stand here and snap at him, push him away, because if Ichigo can't have him in his heart, he can't bear to be around him, can't bear for them to be friends. Maybe it was messed up to think like that, but Ichigo was messed up, he felt like he'd never not be messed up for the rest of his days.

"Okay, whatever, just cool it."  
  
“No, _not_ whatever!" Ichigo shouted, getting more and more upset the more Renji said stupid thing after stupid thing.  

"I wasn't tryin'a' fight, okay? Just get off my back."

"Quit acting like going into a coma didn’t affect me or anybody else at all then. Quit calling it a fucking nap,” Ichigo barked. “I thought you were dead, Renji, _dead._ You-” His voice cracked then and he held his hands up in claws, his brows scrunching together. “You bled into my hands, your head- you wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

“Okay, okay,” Renji tried to soothe, still holding his hands up, that stupid hangdog expression on his face he always wore when he’d done something bad and felt shitty about it, like a dejected animal. “I didn’t mean to upset you this much. I just thought-” he tried to explain, “I was just joking around, I was trying to- to make you laugh, I dunno’.”

“Well it’s not funny, so fuck off with your jokes,” Ichigo snarled, unforgiving in his bitterness. Renji seemed cowed enough not to challenge him, having stopped looking so much like a sad dog and more resigned, calmer somehow. It pissed Ichigo off.

“Okay,” Renji said.

Ichigo wanted to stay mad at him somehow, wanted Renji to argue or act like a dick so he’d have more of an excuse to keep shouting. “I don’t appreciate it,” he mumbled suspiciously.

“Okay.”

“And quit just saying ‘okay’ like an idiot! Are you even listening!” he hollered, perhaps unnecessarily.

“Yes!” Renji shouted back in frustration, “I was just agreeing with you! I don’t wanna’ fight right now!”

Exhausted, Ichigo put his head in his hands and turned away, back resting against the counter. “Just,” he said, “Just… I don’t wanna’ look at your face, just go away.”

There was silence for a moment or two, then Renji shifted and said, “... Fine.” And he did go away.

Ichigo put his head down on the counter, wrapping his arms around it, an overwhelming tightness coming through his throat in a heavy wave.

He didn’t think he could do this. He didn’t think he could cope or even get along with Renji anymore. Friendship, even being in the same room together seemed impossible. It hurt too badly, it felt like thorns in his flesh to even look at him.  
  


  As soon as Ichigo could, he got out of there.

  
He didn’t even grab his coat even though there was still some snow on the ground. He just walked down the stairs to the ground floor and out onto the street and down the sidewalk and kept going and going. He went until he hit a park and then wandered for hours until his hands were stiff and freezing and his ears were bright red, until the sun started going down.

It was early March, so it was frigid. As he slowly tried to find his way back home in the dark, he looked up at the sky, shuffling along. It was overcast and completely dark. He couldn’t see a single star through the clouds, not even the moon.  
  


_‘Ichigo, what happens after this? Do you think we go out there?’_  
  


           “What’s there to go out there to,” he whispered.  
  


When Ichigo had lost his mother as a child, there’d been many adults to tell him that she was in heaven now, or watching over him with the rest of his ancestors. She was still there, he’d see her again, so don’t be sad. He’d drawn no comfort from imagining that she was still somehow around. He hadn’t believed those things then, and not now either.

Ichigo was an E.M.T. His job was to delay death and to save people’s lives before it was forever too late. He knew as well as anything that once the heart and brain went quiet, nothing was left, consciousness ends forever, like falling into endless sleep or ceasing to exist. It didn’t comfort him to hope or imagine that there was some little piece of a person’s heart that never died, or a soul that went somewhere else.

Maybe that’s why he’d taken it so hard as a little boy, losing her, because he’d known deep inside that he could pretend that there were ghosts or spirits that would watch over him, this his mother could somehow see him and still loved him, but he’d known it was pointless. He’d known she was gone, and once everyone who had known her died too, she would be lost to eternity.

No one would ever know a woman named Masaki had ever lived, would never know she’d had beautiful honey-colored hair and that she kissed her little boy and held his hand, that she’d loved him so much as to save that foolish boy at the price of her own life. And if no one knew or remembered, she might as well have never existed in the first place.  
  


 And now Renji, all the time they’ve spent together, it’s all been a disgusting waste.  
  


Perhaps that’s why it had surprised him so much when the shock pads had been placed onto Renji’s chest, why Ichigo hadn’t cried or broken down for as long as he had after the accident, because death, to Ichigo, was so very final, and there was nothing, nothing that could stop it.

The only light out here tonight in the park was those posted in the distance along the street. Ichigo’s eyes were so tired by now that he imagines the flickering of passing headlights are fireflies. For a brief second, he felt the same irrational excitement that seems innately human to feel when catching sight of lightning bugs at night.

He sees the gentle glow and tries to pinpoint the spot, guess where the bug is, where it will flash next, can he catch it, can he hold this glowing creature?

It was March and completely frigid, too early for insects, but he felt in the heat of summer, wandering out there, his skin numbed with cold. For a moment, Renji was with him.

It was all there again, right at the forefront of his brain, so many hiking trips gone too late, spent in the dark woods gazing at the stars together, making love in their tent under the moon, camping by the river and chasing monkeys away from their food scraps.

And fireflies, from July to late August, so many dancing lights around them, as if the stars in the night sky had sunken down about their faces, close enough to touch.

He wanted to pretend for a little while, that it wasn’t just the sights of the city, that he was back there in that time with Renji, exploring the countryside together, hand in hand. He didn’t think he could go without those dancing lights, the stars, the fireflies, the twin gleams of the campfire reflecting in Renji’s eyes. He didn’t want to continue on in life without those things.

In his delirium, stumbling back to the sidewalk, he wildly wondered what he could do, if there was anything he could do, if he could at least go down kicking. If he could concoct a plan, there had to be some part of Renji that still knew, some little piece of heart or imaginary soul that still knew Ichigo’s, that still knew their feelings.

Renji had been mad for him, crazy about him, head over heels for him, and Ichigo had never had cause to doubt it. God, Renji had been planning to _marry him,_ he had to still feel _something._ A person couldn’t just forget that.

He shouldn’t give up so pathetically! As much as it hurt, Ichigo had to try to save his old life. He couldn’t let it slip through the cracks just like so much garbage. If he could, god, if he could figure out how to bring Renji’s heart back to him, remind him of how much they’d cared about each other… Maybe even if Renji never remembered, maybe they could start over. Ichigo would be okay with that, perhaps.

The honking and screeching of a bus as he wandered into the street jolted him out of it, and he snapped back to reality. He looked up at the sky again. There was no snow or rain, but the sky was overcast still, no stars to speak of. The wind ate into his bones, chilling him.  
  


     A plan like that… it was incredibly hopeless.  
  


As alike as they were, where their love life was concerned, it was all Renji there.

Renji was romantic, Ichigo was standoffish. Renji was suave, Ichigo was blunt. Renji was warm and loving and Ichigo was cranky and serious. Renji actively wooed him, Ichigo passively accepted.

If the roles were to reverse now, Ichigo didn’t know what to do. Renji had been the one, always, to make the move, to approach. He’d been the one to confess his feelings, to say ‘I love you’ first, and second, and _twentieth,_ the first to move in for the kiss, to make love to him, to ask him to move in, and then he’d even planned to propose - and Ichigo had… well, he’d accepted. Every time, he’d replied with ‘okay,’ and accepted, but never any more than that. He doesn't have it in him to woo Renji, to win his heart back.

It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate Renji’s feelings. He knew in his bones that Renji had known he loved him despite not showing it, but saying it out loud now, showing it -

Ichigo’s never had to _try_ to get Renji to love him or pay attention to him. Those had always been givens in life, it had been taken as granted that Renji loved him. Now that Ichigo does have to try, he didn’t know how. It had always felt like all he’d had to do was exist, to be there, and Renji would fall all over himself. 

But Renji can’t have stopped loving him. There had to be a way.

Even if he’d always thought hoping and imagining was pointless, Ichigo was clinging onto it like all the ones he’d thought to be fools. Maybe people needed that, needed to believe in something more, even if it wasn’t real. Maybe that’s the only way to keep going, to keep one’s heart from breaking into pieces with sadness.  
  


  That hope though, it felt like it was far out of his reach, twinkling in the distance teasingly.  
  


Ichigo at last trudged up the steps clumsily, his feet completely numb in his shoes from cold. He didn’t know what time it was as he came in the door and quietly fumbled to take his shoes off, intending to wash his face and hands and go try to sleep.

He hadn’t quite made it to the hallway when he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a voice behind him. “I tried to call you,” he heard Renji say, and startled badly.

“Shit, I didn’t see you!” Ichigo yelped, then running a hand over his forehead. “Geez.”

Renji was quiet for a minute, standing there and shifting awkwardly, meeting his eyes with his head turned down. “... Sorry,” he finally said.

“Sorry for what?” Ichigo wondered, having forgotten for a moment, but then said, “... oh.” He felt a little ashamed now, for having blown up earlier and run out. It’s been hard for him, and today hasn’t been one of his better days.

“Yeah,” Renji agreed shortly, not seeming to know what to say. “About before.” Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, looking away. Renji wasn’t much better. They’d never been good at saying sorry to each other, at least not before they’d gotten together, but that had been five years ago now.

“I didn’t know it would bother you that much,” Renji admitted after a long pause. He sighed, fidgeting. Ichigo didn’t look at him. “I know we didn’t really talk about things after the crash, an’ I still don’t really know how… y’know, how it affected you, what you saw…” Renji cleared his throat.

“Ahh, no,” Ichigo mumbled after a minute, scuffing the floor with his cold toe. “I… I’m sorry too, I flipped out,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair roughly. “Let’s just forget it.”

  
            _'Yeah, forget.    Why not.'_  
  


“Pssh,” Renji seemed to perk up, trying not to smile. “Whatever.” He seemed pleased to be forgiven.

Ichigo should be pleased too that they seemed to have made up, but he still felt cold and prickly all over given this whole situation. The state of things was pretty dire, given that Renji usually would apologize quite easily and practically beg on his knees if Ichigo were to so much as send a genuine pout in his direction. It felt like five years ago, before all of that, when they hadn’t known how to talk to each other heart to heart, too prideful and stuck in their ways to cede any ground to the other.

What was worse was that the little light in Renji’s eyes that started to gleam whenever he looked at Ichigo, the affectionate warmth of his love, it was like it’d been snuffed out, or never existed to begin with. It was like Ichigo had imagined it the whole time.

He saw now, that he hadn’t looked Renji in the eye, not fully, since their first conversation in the hospital. Ichigo’d been too shellshocked then with the realization that Renji had forgotten their entire relationship to see that he’d also forgotten something far more important.

Smiling almost uncontainably, Renji waved a hand. “Never mind,” he dismissed breathily, “Let’s not talk about this now. You should sleep.”

Ichigo walked past him down the hallway, and as he made to close his bedroom door, he heard, “Night, Ichigo.”

Ichigo paused, standing there with his hand frozen on the knob. “Goodnight,” he whispered back, and shut the door, enclosing himself in absolute blackness.  
  


      Everything was out there.

The fireflies, the stars, the twinkling flame reflecting in eyes that had once loved him - even the glow from his digital clock, which he’d forgotten in the other room. All of it was still out there, out there where Renji was.

. . .  
  
  


    It was a week before their planned concert roadtrip.

When Ichigo woke up that morning, the sun was glowing through the frosted window onto the stripped bed, and he was laying in his underwear, warm with every muscle loose and lazy, only able to tolerate the frigid air through the thin walls of their apartment because Renji was lying next to him, comfortably nude, space-heater that he was.

“Pull the blanket up,” Renji barely mumbled, eyes still closed, hand on his stomach, other stretched out under Ichigo’s neck.

Ichigo just hummed back, content as he was.

“M’ serious, my balls are freezing.”

Ichigo peeled his dry mouth open to finally speak. “Do it yourself then if you’re so cold as that,” he rasped, at which Renji shuffled a little bit and scooted the blanket up around their hips, then rolled over and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into him like one would a body-pillow.

The next time Ichigo woke, he was tucked in and alone. Renji was in the shower. Ichigo could hear him singing over and over in there, _‘You are my sunshine~ my only sunshine~ you make me happy~ when skies are grey~’_

By the time Renji came out with his towel over his head rather than using it for modesty, Ichigo was in the kitchen in his underpants and a shirt, making a half-ass breakfast. They were out of coffee.

Ichigo cooked them some eggs as Renji approached behind him at the stove and kissed him on each cheek, finishing, “You’ll never know, dear~ how much I love you~ please don’t take-”

“One or two on your rice?”

“Three. I’m damn hungry,” Renji hummed, then pressing his bare body against Ichigo’s back and wrapping his big arms around his chest. He whispered against his ear, wedging his hips against Ichigo’s bottom,  “Y’know. From lovin’ you all night.”

“Why are you whispering?”

Renji let out an almighty groan, releasing him. “Ichigo.” He gave him a loving swat on the butt and finally wrapped himself up in his towel.

“Watch it,” Ichigo replied, but didn’t turn around after feeling the light smack. “Don’t think I won’t give your eggs to Apple.”

“I’m not scared a’ you, Ichigo. Apple won’t eat ‘em.” Renji reached out, groping him a little more. He paused suddenly, quiet for a second. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see Renji’s hand hovering frozen.

“You wouldn’t hit me with that, would you?” Renji nodded towards the egg-spatula.

“Don’t push your luck and we won’t have to find out.” Renji laughed and gave Ichigo a biting kiss just under his jaw, with clear intent to tickle him. Ichigo lifted his shoulder on that side, squishing Renji’s head as he squirmed away. Renji snorted and sat down at the table.

“I never would’ve thought the first time I saw this little orange-head shit I would’ve come to love him so much,” Renji mooned over him.

“Hmm,” Ichigo noted mildly, and quirked his lip in a smile as he plated their food. “Don’t start. Now go cover your dick.” 

Ichigo set their bowls down and sat across from Renji when he came back with some sweats on, putting his feet up on Renji’s thighs under the table. Renji smiled back rather spoonily and tried to take a bite of his breakfast, failing badly when he didn’t take his eyes off of Ichigo.

Ichigo snorted, practically spitting out his mouthful of food.

“What?” Renji demanded indignantly. “What!”

“I was just thinking,” Ichigo tried to say, waving a hand because he was still on the verge of choking, “how this is a perfect time for you to wear that Egg Nipz shirt.”

 _“Dude,”_ Renji said, eyes wide, “Same.”

Renji scarfed his food down as usual with no table manners, chattering all the time, and eventually laid himself out on the couch while Ichigo finished eating slowlier and scrolled through his news feed.

“Dude,” Renji hummed, “What do you wanna’ do today?”

Ichigo made an ‘I dunno’’ sound, shrugging. “I was just gonna’ chill and bum around.”

“Mm.” Renji got more comfortable on the sofa, feet up and head propped up with his arms.

During the summer, they kept busy nearly every day, cramming the hot months with camping and fishing and hiking. They liked to keep occupied, especially Renji, who got bored easily and who liked to go out and do things, even if it was just walking through the park. He’d been driving Ichigo insane since Christmas, cooped up in the house and pestering him for entertainment.

Ichigo didn’t think they’d had any downtime at all last summer, spending every day possible doing something, whether it be traveling the country or doing something simpler like playing Extreme Catch in the park or going to a public pool. In the cold months however, they didn’t do as many outdoor activities, and would fall back on their old pastimes such as watching buddy cop films or weird cooking shows.

They ended up having a lazy night. On lazy nights, Ichigo would read in bed with Renji laying across his feet, his head down at the end of the bed so he could face the TV and play his dating sims. Ichigo didn’t complain about him being a distraction to his reading, because Renji’s belly was keeping his toes warm.

Tonight again, Renji had his laptop plugged in to their TV monitor, and was clicking through his game.

“Dude,” he said after a time, leaning his head on his fist, “I am in love with Craig.”

Ichigo snorted, not even bothering to look up.

“Like no, seriously, I _love_ Craig.”

“Dude, no,” Ichigo disapproved, flicking his eyes above his reading glasses for a moment. “After all the kegstand stories?”

“Ichigo. I’m not gonna’ listen to you disparage the actual skill it takes to do a kegstand,” Renji said, not turning around from his game.

“Whatever.”

“I mean, look at his eyebrow!” Renji flung a hand at the TV. “He is so fucking hot!” Ichigo didn’t say anything, which Renji took as a direct challenge. “What, you don’t like him?”

He turned a page silently.

“What, who would you date then?” Renji demanded.

“Robert.”

“What, really?!” Renji wondered, as if not having expected an answer at all, let alone that one. “I thought for sure you’d like Joseph!”

“Renji. Joseph’s literally insane,” Ichigo pointed out. _“Robert.”_

“Robert,” Renji mumbled to himself incredulously as if to try and understand what Ichigo saw in a guy like Robert. “But he’s such an ass!” he concluded.

“Robert by a mile.”

“Robert treats you like a sack a’ meat, though!” Renij insisted confusedly, turning and watching Ichigo, who still didn’t look.

“If you sleep with him at the first opportunity the game gives, yeah. If you don’t, you get the good ending.”

“What?!” Renji blurted.

“Yeah, you get to like, go ghost-hunting, go to a movie theater, eat pizza in an alleyway, and scrap with that annoying kid, Ernest, I think his name is?” Ichigo pushed his glasses up, glancing at Renji’s slack face. “Plus you find out about his tortured past and get him to reconcile with his adult daughter.”

“What, I didn’t know that!” Renji turned back to his game and staring at it with an expression of personal betrayal.

“And then you make sweet tender love.”

“What, _I wanna’ do that stuff!”_

“God, you’re loud.”

“No. Okay no. I thought I got the good ending already.” Renji pouted a bit, grimacing, and clicked around. “Sorry Craig.” He saved and made to exit to the title screen.

“...” Ichigo went back to reading. Renji stared at the title screen for a few long seconds.

“Ichigo, am I as sexy as Craig?”

“Hard to say.”

“Yeah,” Renji agreed. “Craig is pretty hot.”

Ichigo glanced up again then, glaring. “Are you just gonna’ play this all day, ‘cause I wanna’ use the TV now.”

“For what?”

Ichigo slapped his book down onto the side table. _“Renji._ You _know_ I’m still playing DMMD.” He’d been doing so every night for the last week. They both had. They were on the Clear route together, but he knew Renji’d been playing without him, so he’d gotten ahead.

“I already finished it.”

“I didn’t. I wanna’ see Koujaku fuck Aoba again.”

Renji made this weird noise, like a scoffing noise, not turning around as he started a new game to do the Robert route. “Of course you wanna’ see that.”

“What does that mean?” Ichigo narrowed his eyes, giving Renji a chance to back out. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I think you do.” Renji turned around then, feeling on his upper thigh a little bit. Ichigo scowled back.

“Don’t be dumb.”

“C’mon baka-baka, I’ll take you in the bath just like he did.” Renji abandoned the controller in favor of feeling him up. Hah, so naive at a time like this.

“I said don’t be dumb!” Ichigo stole the mouse and threw himself onto his front, head down at the end of the bed to play the game, book abandoned. He closed Renji’s game and opened his own.

“So mean,” Renji hummed, but let Ichigo have his way, instead settling next to him and nosing at his neck while he played, feeling on him and kissing a path on his shoulder and arm.

When Ichigo looked back on it now, it already felt so long ago. He’d taken some of the stupidest things for granted. It was dumb, but he’d figured he’d always have that, Renji spilling food out of his mouth for making goo-goo eyes at him recklessly, Renji warming his feet up, Renji constantly spoiling him, humoring him, letting him have his way. He’d taken it for granted that Renji would come back for his attention a thousand times, even if he was sent away or ignored a thousand times more. He’d taken it for granted that all he’d have to do was accept and nothing more, that all he had to do was be a shitty-orange-head loser and Renji would fawn over him.  
  


    Ichigo curled up in the dark, burying his head in the pillow, stiff from disuse.

Somehow, Apple had gotten in before he’d shut the door on the rest of the world, and felt him hop onto the bed and settle his warm weight against his side.

Not so very long ago, Apple hopping into bed would’ve started Renji cursing that the kids were snuggle-blocking him, and he’d try to shoo Apple away without waking him, using half-hearted hissed protests of ‘share’ and ‘I was cuddling him first!’ until Ichigo told him to shut up already and let him sleep.

Perhaps Ichigo should feel comforted that at least someone still loved him, but now it was just him and Apple here in the dark, and he felt just that little bit lonelier.

. . .

 

_And you used to be everything to me, and now you’re tired of fighting, tired of fighting, fighting yourself._


	9. Sunburn

_Come let the truth be shared. No one ever dared to break these endless lies; secretly, she cries._

 . . .  
  


Ichigo can’t avoid Renji forever, as easy as it would make things. It would certainly make it far less painful, but being away was almost worse, because Ichigo still felt Renji’s absence everywhere he goes.

They’d been close for a long time, and Ichigo’d forgotten what it was like to feel sad or alone, or to be happy or accomplished and not be able to share it with Renji. He’d forgotten what it was like to not be able to talk to someone who understood him. With Rukia so far away, he and Renji had been joined at the hip for the longest time. It’s been a hard adjustment. It's been hard to let go.

Renji hasn’t been cold with him, but honestly, if Ichigo had to describe it, it felt like the first year or so after they’d first met, after they'd stopped going for each other’s throats over the whole Rukia thing and begun to tentatively get along for short periods of time, but before they'd fallen in love. It felt like that time, from ages ago now.

At least he wasn’t back to _‘Kurosaki,’_ but he _was_ _‘buddy’_ and _‘man’_ and _‘dude.’_

  
      Not _'Ichi,'_ not _'babe,'_  or _'my number one.'_   Not ever again.  
  


That newfound distance hurt, and so being around Renji hurt too, because at first Ichigo had just thought that Renji had merely forgotten their relationship, but last night…

Last night he’d come to a rather startling realization, something he was still partially in numb shock over, unable to process it. Renji had forgotten much more than he'd thought.

He’d forgotten that he’d ever loved Ichigo. It was like he’d forgotten the moment he’d fallen in love with Ichigo, because those feelings and every memory that he’d looked on Ichigo with fondness after that were gone. Ichigo didn't know why it hadn't hit him before now.

Ichigo's been able to look back to the beginning. Renji’s behavior before confessing to him had been rather obvious, and he was fairly confident that if Renji had merely forgotten that he’d told Ichigo his feelings and thought he was still keeping it secret, Ichigo would be able to tell. Ichigo was sure he’d be able to tell if Renji still felt the same, but no.

That crazy spark in Renji’s eye, the affection in his voice, the teasing that Ichigo had gotten used to, it was all gone, snuffed out like a candle, winking out of the sky.  
  
Renji didn’t feel those feelings for him anymore; it’s as if he never had to begin with.

Any insane thought Ichigo’d had out in the cold, wandering in a daze, any thought he might’ve had of trying to woo Renji back to him, to try to trigger his memories, it all went out the window.

After all, Renji’s told him what made him fall in love with him, what had stolen his heart.  
  


_‘For the longest time, you’d scowl and pout, but you had these soft eyes, these golden brown eyes, and I couldn’t help it. Then, fuck, Ichigo, the first time I saw you smiling. It was over.’_  
  


But there was no point. There was no point if Renji didn’t love him anymore, no point in trying. He could never recreate that moment where he’d stolen Renji’s breath away with something special that only Renji saw in his sad brown eyes and his grimace of a smile.

Ichigo was fairly sure that he’d come to terms with it now, that it was truly over for good. He’s mostly sure that all the meltdowns and screaming and near-crying was over and that he would start to cope with his usual flat indifference. He was pretty sure, but not completely, because it wasn’t all the way there. It still hurt too much to write off. It was still too hard to put behind him.  
  


   He was starting to get into the routine of things, sure, but he felt the gap between their hearts every day.  
  


Looking back throughout the mindnumbing cold and emptiness of each day, Ichigo found that there were many things that he bitterly regretted. He should have opened up more. If it was going to end like this, he wished he would’ve opened up more when he’d had the chance, even if it would’ve hurt more at the finish. At least then, he wouldn’t have wasted, he wouldn’t have missed out.

Renji had always been very loving with him, endlessly affectionate, but Ichigo had never appreciated that the way he should have. Ichigo wasn’t a cuddly person. It wasn’t that he was cold towards Renji or rejected his warmth, but he didn’t show Renji much affection.

Renji would kiss his cheek while he was cooking, or put his arm around him on the sofa, or hold him at night in bed, but Ichigo wouldn’t initiate the same, maintaining a mellow air of indifference. He didn’t know why he did, but he did.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to get up and walk away if Renji sat down next to him, or to move off after being kissed, or to lay passively under Renji’s loving hands if, in a moment of passion, he should chance to roll on top of him at night to ravish him. He didn’t take Renji’s hand or cuddle up to him or kiss him out of the blue. He lay on his own side of the bed at night. He didn’t say ‘I love you’ often, or ever, in fact. He didn’t know why, god, he didn’t know why.

Ichigo hadn’t done those things, but he’d always known that he _could,_ was the point. And now he couldn’t. And not taking advantage of those opportunities when he’d had the chance was something he bitterly regretted.

He felt that distance and took that absence very hard.  
  


     But he’s pretty sure he’d been coping well. Mostly. Fairly sure.  
  


If Renji’d noticed that something was up, he hadn’t said anything to him about it, maybe assuming he was still upset about before and didn’t want to push his luck.

Ichigo knew that Renji was going on with normal life, and so should he. Renji didn’t even hardly know that anything was amiss, besides Ichigo being crankier than normal. He didn’t realize Ichigo was spiralling, devastated. Renji didn’t know he’d forgotten anything at all, did he, he’d hardly realized. He didn’t know that at every moment, Ichigo was waiting for that touch, that kiss, that stupid humming and singing. He didn’t know that every time, Ichigo stumbled, missed a stair, lurched when those things didn’t come.

Ichigo can’t avoid him forever though, and he’d come to accept that those things, the things he’d taken for granted, _so for granted,_ the things he’d thrown away like nothing, like he’d always get one more day and didn’t need to treasure them - those things, like Renji drifting up behind him and holding him in his arms absently, Renji shoving up next to him in bed, cuddling against him, Renji kissing him with endless fascination, shoulder, neck, ear, cheek, nose, forehead, lips, Renji singing to him, whispering in his ear, his hot body pressed against the naked length of back, _love you, love you,_ Ichigo’d come to accept that those things were never going to happen again, Renji was never going to do them again.

He knew that in his situation, Renji would’ve done anything possible to win his heart back. He knew Renji would work night and day to make Ichigo love him again, but if he’d known it was hopeless, like Ichigo knew this was hopeless...

_‘If I lost you, I’d have to let you go.’_

  
There was nothing else left to do. Ichigo would just have to hold his head up and be as strong as Renji would’ve been.

He ought to quit being selfish and ungrateful, and be thankful that Renji was still alive, that he was still here living with him, his good friend. He ought to be satisfied at least. Ichigo felt a hot twinge in his belly.

He’s never been as strong as Renji though. After her hand had been torn away from his little one, he’d never been able to let go ever again.

If he couldn’t make his heart let go, then he had to at least cope in silence.

So he tried to stay away, and when he couldn’t, he tried to remain indifferent to avoid lashing out in anger and sadness.  
  


     It works for all of three tense days in which they hardly speak a word to each other.  
  


Even avoiding Renji had its price, because although it made the unbearable pain slightly more bearable, it ended up giving him quite the scare.

On Friday night, Ichigo didn’t drag himself home until about three a.m. He tried to keep quiet so as not to wake Renji up, figuring coming home this late he wouldn’t have to see him or talk to him. When he came through the door though, he found Renji asleep on the couch with the TV on, and for a second, Ichigo froze in his tracks, this eerie sense of deja vu coming over him. But this time it was wrong somehow, seeing Renji lying there motionless with his eyes closed.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d taken a step forward, heart pounding in his throat and his eyeballs and his fingertips. He was so still, he looked like, just like-   “Renji,” he whispered, not thinking past blind panic, his lips shaking.  
  


    _“Renji!”_  
  


Renji snapped awake, nearly falling off the couch with a gasp, startling badly. “What!” he blurted, “What is it?!”

And Ichigo just stood there, one foot going back in retreat. “I- … I thought,” he heaved breathlessly, staring at him. Renji stared back, both of them equally surprised with the other, eyes wide with confusion, bodies frozen.

“You thought what?” he whispered, as though not to scare him.

It seemed stupid now, silly. He'd thought the coma had come back. He'd had one of those moments, relived the feeling of thinking Renji was dead. But he couldn't tell him that, could he. Couldn't tell him something so ridiculous.

“Nothing,” Ichigo said, “Nothing. Never mind.” He made his retreat. “I’m going to bed.” He shut himself away from the world again, sagging against the door, letting his head thud against it.  
  


     He checked his phone before going to bed, and for once, messaged back.

  
           ‘hangout?’        ‘Kurosaki.’ ‘hey.’         ‘Kurosaki, come outside.’  
  


‘no, not tonight.’  
  


               ‘you can’t avoid me forever you know.’  
  


 ‘Yes i fucking can.’  
  


        ‘Not forever you cant.’  
  


Ichigo shut his phone off and tried to sleep, but ended up staring at the wall for hours and hours, eyes refusing to shut.  
  
  


     The following night, Ichigo came home late, but not _as_ late, this time around midnight. When he got in and set his keys and a bag of convenience store comfort food on the counter, Renji was on the couch again, this time awake and slumped, his chin on his chest and his eyes dazedly watching the TV.

Renji didn’t acknowledge his presence, but Ichigo glanced at him a few times as he put some drinks and sandwiches in the fridge to chill, planning to shower in the interim and then come back out to eat a late dinner at the table.

“You take your medication today?” Ichigo asked, balling up the plastic bag and putting it under the sink. Renji liked to save them for recycling day.

Ichigo looked up when he didn’t get a reply, only to see Renji pick his head up and stare at him for a second, eyes blank. His head drifted back towards the TV screen. “... I think I’ve seen this episode before,” Renji noted in a mumble, “They renovate an Airstream trailer.”

   “Renji.”

“Huh,” Renji grunted, not looking up, still staring at the TV with a slack jaw. In the dark, with the colored lights flicking on his face, he looked completely dazed.

“Did you take your pills?” Ichigo walked towards him to check him. He was already kicking himself. He should have paid Renji closer attention. Damnit, just because he’d been too weak to handle his personal issues, he hasn’t kept a close enough watch on his concussed boyf-   _friend_.    _Friend_.

“You have a headache? Dizzy?” Concerned, he pestered Renji to answer him, despite knowing it may irritate him into starting a fight. All that didn't matter in that moment though, because he was worried, worried that something might not be right. Ichigo meant to reach out and feel Renji’s forehead, but stopped himself.      Couldn't do those things anymore, _couldn't, couldn't, couldn't._  
  


    “No,” Renji hummed rather absently, eyes floating past Ichigo to watch his show, “m’ okay.”

“How have you been sleeping?” Ichigo continued, brow furrowed.

“You’re nosy,” Renji noted, but he wasn't upset. He said it with a small quirk to his lip, like he thought it was funny, but was too lazy to really smile or laugh out loud. “What, are you my personal nurse now?”

  
    ‘You were in a coma, Renji,’ he wanted to say. _‘You have serious amnesia that isn’t self-correcting, which means you have significant brain damage.’_  
  


But of course he doesn't say that. He can't say it, because Renji still hasn't caught on on his own that he was missing something - and to know there was something forgotten when it hadn't yet come back on it's own would only upset him, would only set things back.

  
    “You splattered your brains, so deal with it, I’m gonna’ get in your business,” Ichigo said flatly.  
  


“Mm,” Renji responded, then yawned widely. He blinked sleepily a few times, and then said unexpectedly, “You’ve been working a lot.”

Ichigo felt defensive for some reason, and almost blurted out that he was trying to make a little extra because their car had been destroyed in the crash, plus they'd lost Renji's income, what with him home resting. Also, he was working a lot because seeing Renji sucked right now. But he felt that would be kind of dickish to say, so he didn’t say it.

     “Yeah well...”

Renji wiped one eye. “We haven’t hung out since I… Well… you know.”

To his credit, he hadn’t made an insensitive joke that time, giving a kind of sheepish smile instead as he caught himself.

               “Come watch TV,” he said sleepily, smiling.  
  


Ichigo didn’t know why he did, feeling like it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t. He was in love with that soft look on Renji's face, in love with the way the light played on his skin in the dark, in love with all of him. Being away has been agony.   “Okay,” he agreed hesitantly, intending to go back to the fridge to get the snacks back out and share them now. What the heck.

“What’s the show?”

“Ahh, y’know, fixing up old cars and shit,” Renji explained vaguely. “... I think I’ve seen this episode before though. They renovate an Airstream trailer.” Ichigo knew that Renji’d been wanting to buy one of those for years for them to use while camping, but he didn’t find this of much note right away.

      Thoughtlessly, he said, “You already said that.”  
  


He kicked himself right after, because he wasn’t supposed to do things like that. If Renji had mental lapses or any short term forgetfulness, he wasn’t supposed to point it out or push him on it. Ichigo didn’t want to upset him, because he knew if Renji realized just how much he’d forgotten, he’d beat himself up over it, he’d feel stupid. Ichigo wanted to shelter him from that, if he could.

Something like this hadn’t happened until now though, and Ichigo had just said it on reflex, and he couldn’t take it back. He immediately felt guilty and watched Renji for a response.

“I think I’ve seen this episode,” was all he said, not even looking at him.

See, that was worrying. Ichigo frowned to see Renji still staring at the TV, expression oddly lax. “Dude, you already said that, don’t you remember?” he wondered with his brow furrowed.

“I think I’ve seen this.”

_“What?”_

“I think I’ve seen this episode before,” Renji repeated, voice dull. Ichigo just stared at him silently, unnerved.  
  


      Renji looked up then, grey in the face, and swallowed hard. “Ichigo…” he croaked.  
  


“What, what is it?” Ichigo whispered, eyes flicking over his clammy face.

“I don’t feel good,” he rasped, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his face. He lifted his hand to the tender back of his head where there was still a bandage, but Ichigo stopped him, this time making it before he could touch his scalp.

“Don’t touch,” he said. “Stay here, I’m gonna’ get your pills.” He stood up, stepping away.

“Ichigo,” Renji called miserably.

“What? What?”

“What…” Renji repeated back unthinkingly, then blinked at himself, mouth working uselessly.

“Your pills,” Ichigo said quickly. “I’m coming right back. _Don't_ touch your head. I'll be right back.”

“I feel so weak all of a sudden,” Renji whispered shakily. “I can’t… I can’t think.”

“You forgot your pills, you’re hurting,” Ichigo explained, the adrenaline keeping him calm like it did at work. He's calm, but his hands shake.

“I don’t think I hurt, I don’t… I don’t think I’m in pain,” Renji mumbled confusedly.

     “Stay here.”  
  


He came back, and Renji had managed to lie still across the couch for that long, seeming to be feeling slightly better, and was looking at the ceiling quietly.

“How are you such a trouble magnet, you idiot,” Ichigo grumbled.

“That’s why I have you,” Renji breathed with a smile. “To keep me in line. It’s fuckin’ annoying,” he muttered.

Ichigo stopped and looked at him, but then shook himself off. “Swallow,” he demanded, handing Renji the glass of water and his pills and sat with him while he took them. Then he sent him to bed for some rest.  
  


     That had been weird. For a second it had been like…  
  


           No, but that couldn’t be possible. In any case, it would be foolish to get his hopes up.

  
Ichigo shut the TV off.

. . .  
  


Ichigo yawned as he woke up, standing and trying to fix the crick in his neck. Sleeping on Renji’s couch always gave him a sore back. He stumbled blearily to the bathroom, showered, and woke up the rest of the way.

He’d spent the night last night. Renji had camped out on the floor with him out in the living room, refusing to go sleep in his bed all alone when his boyfriend was there to be with, and they’d fallen asleep together talking.

It looked like Renji had already gotten up and gone to work, having avoided waking him. When Ichigo got out of the shower, he found a note on the mirror.

 _‘Morning beautiful,’_ it said in bright neon pink, cut into a heart shape. A smiley face was drawn on the corner.

Ichigo huffed, trying not to feel charmed, and pulled the note down, crumpling it and throwing it out. He threw it out, sure, but he smiled as he brushed his teeth.

As he turned to the bathroom door to go to the kitchen, there was another one.   _‘Don’t forget breakfast!’_ Ichigo pulled that one down too.

“Fine!” he said, but felt incredibly warm inside.

In the kitchen there was another note on the fridge, this one yellow with red hearts drawn on it. _‘I got those chocolate freezer waffles you like. Eat up!'_

Ichigo checked the freezer. Inside was the box with a note taped on it, a blue star. _‘Fruit’s in the fridge.’_   Ichigo ate his waffles with chopped peaches on top.  
  


On the front door was one last note. _‘Have a kickass day. Kiss me goodbye here  → x '_

  
     Ichigo didn’t kiss the note, but he appreciated the sentiment.

 

. . .

_She burns like the sun and I can’t look away, and she’ll burn our horizons; make no mistake._


	10. Space Dementia

_Space dementia in your eyes, and peace will arise and tear us apart and make us meaningless again._

 . . .

 

   The incident from the night before didn’t turn out to be a standalone incident. It was a repeat occurrence.  
  


It almost seemed like Renji was starting to remember things, and Ichigo began to feel hope for the first time.

Renji had begun doing things that he’d used to do. However, there was the fact that Renji didn’t seem to realize the significance of those things or even notice that anything out of the ordinary was happening. It was like living with an old person who'd gone senile but didn't know it. 

The first time that Ichigo had accepted that he wasn’t imagining things, he’d gotten really excited, but it had quickly changed to disappointment when it happened again and again with no more progress.

Renji, who hadn’t sung or so much as hummed since he’d woken up, had begun humming what sounded like the chorus of _Invincible_ on a weird loop while he rummaged in the kitchen and took his laundry from his room to the washing machine.

Ichigo had been reading a book on the couch rather morosely, but when he’d heard that, he’d looked up, taken his reading glasses off and then leaned over the back of the couch to watch Renji for a few moments. He held his breath and listened, staring with his eyes wide.

   No, he wasn’t mistaken. He couldn't be. He'd know it anywhere.

“What’s that song,” he said, almost breathlessly, holding stock still. Was this the moment? When it all came rushing back?

Renji stopped humming and looked up. “What song?” he said after a minute.

“You were humming.” Ichigo licked his dry lips. “Just now,” he added excitedly.

He can hardly dare to hope. Was it starting to come back?  As much as he’d said he’d accepted there was no hope, this was what he’d waited for, any sign that there was something still there, just hiding and waiting to be triggered.

“Oh,” Renji said with a frown, standing there and pursing his lips at himself. “I guess I was.”

Ichigo stood up from the couch. “Do it again,” he said firmly. Renji gave him a strange look.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it again,” he demanded.

Renji looked troubled, brow furrowing. “It was stuck in my head, just a couple of notes. I don’t know what it’s from,” Renji brushed off, shaking his head, “It was just nonsense.”

“Do it again.” Ichigo wouldn’t let it drop. There was something left, calling out from the void in Renji’s brain, something that remembered. Ichigo had to believe that.

“. . .” Renji seemed frustrated, mouth working uselessly. “It was… it was just there,” he said rather helplessly.

“Try, try harder,” Ichigo urged, his throat dry, but his hope starting to flag.

Renji scowled, but shook his head. “... I can’t. It’s gone now.”

“Oh…” Ichigo could barely keep from hanging his head, but his shoulders did drop in disappointment, and he sat down again in a bit of a slump.

Renji seemed to realize that he’d taken it rather hard, and hedged awkwardly, “... Did I… do something wrong?”

“No, just… For a second I- … Never mind.” Ichigo gave a grimace of a smile and went back to his reading, or tried to.  
  


          It happened again later, only it was far worse the next time.  
  


It had been several days, and after dinner one evening, Ichigo was channel-flicking in his recliner while Renji sat on the couch nearby with his laptop on the coffee table. Ichigo had pointedly not said anything as Renji played _Microcuts_ and _Defector,_ because he’d apparently rediscovered their favorite band. Ichigo hadn’t said anything, but he was sitting on pins and needles, hardly daring to breathe, even though he knew this was going to be another crushing disappointment. Each time, it seemed like Renji was so close to catching on, but then it went over his head yet again. Every time, he missed the mark, and he was going to miss it again this time too.

“Dude, I love this band,” Renji said at last, during _Apocalypse Please._

“We’ve gotta’ go see ‘em play live. Muse does these amazing lights shows, so we gotta’ make sure we see them in a huge stadium or something.”

Ichigo sat motionless, staring unseeing at the television, thinking Renji’s words before he said them, then hearing the exact same words aloud. He could predict them, because Renji has said them before. It’s been happening all week, and never has Renji shown any sign of realizing, no signs of deja vu.

“C’mere and look at the showing times, maybe we can make-” That was when he cut off and the script diverted. This was different. Ichigo turned in his chair.

“What the fuck!” Renji burst in outrage, staring at his laptop. “Awww, _no!_ What the hell!” he complained. “Can you believe it, we just missed a concert in Sapporo like only a few-”

Renji stopped, closed his mouth, frowned, looked at Ichigo, looked back at his laptop, then pursed his lips.  
  


   “Oh,” he said at last.

  
Ichigo turned back to the TV again, eyes lowered. Renji seemed displeased with his sad expression and nonresponse.

“I’m right, aren’t I,” he said quietly. “That was the night. That’s the one we went to together, isn’t it.”

Ichigo didn’t respond, clenching his jaw and screwing his eyes shut tight.

“And I don’t remember any of it,” Renji hissed to himself, _“shit,"_ he snapped. He started hitting his head and ears, gritting his teeth in frustration. Ichigo jolted up.

“Stop! Hey!” Before realizing, he’d crossed the room and grabbed Renji’s hands to stop him, and as soon as he did, Renji's eyes locked with his. Ichigo dropped his hands again and backed away. 

This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. He hadn’t wanted Renji to realize and then react badly. It had been like an electric shock, seeing him hitting his head and tearing himself up like that, and he’d moved without thinking. It seemed to have frozen Renji too, because he was stock still, staring back at him.

Renji lowered his hands, looking at him with suspicion, moving slowly as though Ichigo was a tiger about to pounce, or worse, a rabbit about to bolt.  
  


And that’s when he thought… maybe it was better that Renji didn’t know he’d forgotten, that he didn’t push him to remember.  
  


“Don’t beat yourself up,” Ichigo managed. He tried smiling, closing his eyes with the force of it and scratching his hair. “It’s no big deal. Maybe one day you’ll see them play again.” His throat hurt saying it.

Renji kept watching him with a note of distrustful curiosity, muttering with no small amount of disappointment, “They started in ‘94. They’re on their seventh album. How many more chances am I gonna’ have before they close up shop?”

Ichigo shrugged, deflating, the energy it took to summon a single convincing smile draining him completely.

“Damnit, I can’t believe I don’t remember. Muse? We saw fucking _Muse_ and I don’t remember, that shit ain’t fair!” Renji said, although more irritated than distressed at this point. “Did you take any videos? Pictures?” he pressed Ichigo anxiously.

Rather helplessly, Ichigo admitted, “We did, but…” But he didn’t want to show them to Renji, didn’t want Renji to see them. He didn’t want Renji to see the pictures of them in the stadium, standing together, Renji behind him and holding him in his arms and gently swaying while Muse covered _Can’t Take My Eyes Off You._ He didn’t want Renji to see the pictures of them together, Ichigo smiling as his cheek was kissed, the lights all around them.

     Not if he didn’t remember.  
  


“Man,” Renji griped. “This sucks.”

  “Yeah dude.”  
  
  


Since those sorts of things had started happening, Ichigo had read a lot on the internet and asked Renji’s doctor about ways to try and trigger Renji’s memories without causing emotional distress, and although Renji seemed to have moments where he unconsciously said things he’d once said in almost exactly the same way, in none of those instances did he seem to remember his fond feelings for Ichigo.

White Day came and went nearly without incident, marking a month since Renji’s injury.

In years past, Renji usually did something romantic on Valentine’s, considering it was their anniversary, nevermind that Renji was just mushy like that. Who cared that it was a holiday meant for women to confess their love, Renji would never pass up an opportunity to spoil Ichigo.

It would’ve been expected that Ichigo would reciprocate his feelings for Renji on White Day, but Ichigo’s never been a romantic guy. He’d once bought Renji some fish cakes, but that was about the extent of it. Even so, Renji always got a little lovey on White Day too, looking for some extra kisses and plying him for attention, and Ichigo would indulge him.

    Today though, none of that.  
  


Ichigo couldn’t help but feel disappointed when Renji didn’t seem to find anything of note about today. In fact, he didn’t even so much as mention it until late in the evening when Ichigo was on the couch watching the news, moping.

“Hey,” Renji said from the kitchen, taking a bag out of the fridge, “I got some overpriced chocolate for us. I know you like those boxed ones.”

Ichigo almost rocketed up out of his chair. Chocolate? There was chocolate?

He made himself stay sitting, but he craned his neck. “You know you could’ve just gotten it tomorrow for a huge mark-down,” he said, still staring at the bag Renji was holding.

“Yeah, but it’s more fun the day of,” Renji said. “... You gonna’ eat any?” he offered, popping the plastic off the box. Ichigo frowned, sinking back into his chair.

“I… lost my appetite just now,” he muttered, and watched TV in a slump for an hour or so. Renji screwed around in the front room, just behind his chair and out of sight, but went quiet after a while, thankfully, and Ichigo was able to ignore him.  
  


  “Ichigo,” he said at last, long after it had gotten dark.

“What?”

“Ichigo, come over here.” Ichigo looked over and saw Renji standing at the window, having opened it up. “Check out how bright the stars are tonight.”

Ichigo sighed, closing his eyes. He can’t do this, he really can’t. Not today. Please not today. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“C’mon man, get up and look,” Renji insisted. “Just for a second.”

Ichigo reluctantly got up, even though he knew it wouldn’t just be ‘a second.’ He stood at Renji’s side as he held the curtain back and leaned on the windowsill, sticking his torso out.

“Man,” Renji sighed with a smile at the sky, “Do you remember when we cowboy-camped out in the woods?”

 _‘You remember that?’_ Ichigo’d wanted to say, but he instead asked, “Which time?”

“Hakone,” Renji clarified, shaking his head and gazing above him. “The stars look just like they did when we were in Hakone. Man, that was a great trip. We have to do that again.”

“Yeah, Lake Ashi was pretty nice,” Ichigo agreed, even though he knew they were never going to do that again.

Ichigo didn’t understand how Renji remembered that trip, but not foolishly swimming naked at nighttime and then checking for leeches in a panic later, not eating smores like pocky and then kissing, not making love right in the woods and then waking up with mosquito bites everywhere.  
  


  “I loved everything about that place. ‘Specially lying out under the stars. Just…”

  
             “Unforgettable,” they both said together.  
  


Renji looked at Ichigo for a second, and Ichigo looked back, and for a moment they seemed close all of a sudden. Renji seemed to gaze into his eyes and Ichigo thought he might…

But instead of doing anything like that, Renji turned away to the sky again, his deep soulful eyes raised.

    “You gonna’ make a wish?”  
  


Ichigo’s hopes were dashed. And what was the difference between hopes and wishes, wishes and prayers? They were all just as doomed to chance.  
  


He stepped away from the window wordlessly and sat back on the couch.  
  


. . .  
  


  Eight months before the crash was when Ichigo had called it quits with Grimmjow.  
  


They’d always had a weird relationship. After Grimmjow had gotten over hating him and wanting to kill him, he’d sort of badgered Ichigo in what Ichigo could see was an effort to be his friend. Grimmjow wasn’t half bad either, he could be fun.

But he could be dangerous too. And after a year or so of Renji giving him looks of disapproval and Ichigo blowing it off, it finally became too much.

The two of them were in a grimy public restroom in the subway. Grimmjow stood behind him using a urinal while Ichigo was at the sink, checking his eye orbit in the wall mirror. His face was all bashed up and scraped.

“Shit,” Ichigo muttered, feeling around his brow. Yeah, there was no hiding this bruise. “Renji’s gonna’ be pissed when he sees this.”

“I don’t see why,” Grimmjow replied with a grumble, shaking off and zipping up. “You two used to really go at it like that.”

“That was a long time ago,” Ichigo sighed, giving a glance to Grimmjow in the mirror, standing beside him in his ridiculous suit jacket as he fixed his hair. Grimmjow was pretty fucked up too, his lip and brow split open.

Ichigo knew what he had to do, he just didn’t want to see how Grimmjow would react to what he was about to say.

“Look Grimmjow, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while. I can’t do this kind of thing anymore,” he told him, staring at his stupid scraped up face and thinking about how Renji was going to cringe and rage at the sight of him. “I have a family,” he said, leaning down and splashing cold water on his eye.

“So do I.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Ichigo said firmly. “It’s just too much crazy for me. I thought we could be friends, but… well, you aren’t gonna’ change. I was stupid to think you would.” And he walked out.

 _“Fuck you then!”_   _  
_

Ichigo sighed and felt guilty, because all he heard was pain and loneliness. He wasn’t shot inbetween the shoulders on the way out, which was a good sign. He also wasn’t gunned down on the way home. He was met at the door by his boyfriend though.

“There you are, you’re late!” Renji said, leaping off the couch.

“I know,” Ichigo said, and saw Renji take a step back from him with a gasp. God, he’s in for it now.

He was right. Renji _was_ pissed. He took one look at Ichigo’s face and puffed himself up to yell, mouth contorting silently, but finally grit his teeth and held it in. “Look, I know you’re mad,” Ichigo began. Renji stepped in, moving past the angry phase straight to the concern, face scrunched up like he was about to cry. Ichigo felt sick inside, like a dog that’s been bad.

“What the hell happened to your face?” he breathed, running his hand along Ichigo’s cheek.

“I know, I know, I’m okay, I swear,” he said as Renji pulled his shirt up to check his chest. “Renji, it’s fine.”

“Lemme’ see,” Renji insisted, still with that tone of voice like he couldn’t believe he’d let this happen. He brought Ichigo into the light of the kitchen and banged his fist on the counter, turning his face away for a second with his jaw clenched. “Aw fuck, Ichigo, again! Look at your face!” he howled.

“I know, I know what you’re gonna’ say.” Ichigo rubbed his hands through his hair with a tired sigh, wanting this conversation to be over already. He doesn’t like to be scolded, especially when he knew he was wrong.

Renji put on his serious expression and tone of voice. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, Ichigo, but I think you should stop hanging out with that guy.” He’s said it many times before, and Ichigo’d never listened to him until today. He’d thought about it plenty, but never done what Renji asked.

“I know, I know, I know,” Ichigo exhaled, hand to his aching brow. “I already told him I don’t wanna’ see him until he’s gonna’ tone it down, but I know- I _know_ he can’t, so…”

Renji got a wet towel and sat Ichigo on the counter, trying to take care of him with a piece of ice like a total amateur. Ichigo was the doctor in the family. He still let Renji do as he pleased, feeling ashamed enough of how stupid he’s been that he knew he deserved every minute of this.

“I don’t know why you feel like you have to see that guy, he’s a total dick.”

“He’s not so bad, Renji,” Ichigo defended, “He’s just lonely.”

Renji rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh, but said seriously, “You know I love your bleeding heart, Ichigo, and I like that you have your own friends.”

“I know.”

“Ichigo,” he said with his voice small and quiet, as he held onto Ichigo’s hand. “I was scared.”

“I know,” Ichigo said, curling up inside. Renji’d thought something really bad had happened to him, had worried he might lose him. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Okay.” Renji hugged him in relief.

Ichigo put a heat pack on his bruise and sat with Renji playing Streetfighter.

. . .

 

_I’d cut your name in my heart; will destroy this world for you._


	11. Supermassive Black Hole

_Glaciers melting in the dead of night, and the superstars sucked into the, into the supermassive…_

_. . ._

   Renji has always been sensitive to Ichigo’s moods.

That didn’t necessarily mean that he tiptoed around him, more that he simply noticed, and after a few days of Ichigo dragging himself around in a slump, Renji finally confronted him.

He’d already noted that he’d been distant lately, but Ichigo had just given noncommittal shrugs and grunts as a response. The last straw seemed to be at ten o’clock on a Friday, when Renji was on the floor in the hallway, petting Apple, and Ichigo brushed him off.

  
   “Hey Ichigo, remember when Apple got into the neighbor’s unit and ate their pet mouse?” he snickered.

  
Ichigo ignored him again other than humming vaguely, reading the newspaper at the counter. Seeming fed up, at least enough to confront him directly about his attitude, Renji huffed and stood up. Ichigo has dreaded this, because Renji wasn’t stupid, and had been sure to catch on eventually that something was very wrong between them.

“Okay, what’s up,” Renji demanded, and when Ichigo didn’t respond, he changed tactics and said more softly, hesitantly, “... It feels like you’ve been mad at me.”

Ichigo shrugged, turning a page.

“I mean, more like... “ Renji rubbed a hand over his head, letting out a breath. “It honestly feels like years back when we still argued all the time, like… when you didn’t like me,” he explained, gesticulating. Ichigo swallowed but continued pretending to read despite the sickness clenching in his gut.

  
      “You feel… cold towards me, somehow.”

  
“I’m like I always am,” Ichigo rasped, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

  
“You’re not.”  
  


“Think whatever you want, man.” Ichigo swatted the newspaper down on the counter and retreated, escaping like a fucking coward.

“Ichigo,” Renji tried.

“Forget it, I’m going out tonight.” Ichigo got his coat and shoes on, refusing to turn around and meet those sad eyes.

Renji was quiet, shuffling about a bit, but voiced, “Can I come?”

“I kind of need a break, actually,” he said to the door, hand on the knob. He knew he was being a dick, but he needed to get away for a while. He was going stir crazy in here, seeing Renji’s face every day.

“Oh,” Renji said. “... Okay.”

Ichigo screwed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, but got outside. He had to walk a ways before the guilt in his stomach eased. When he'd made it a few blocks, he took his phone out. Grimmjow still texted him almost every night to try and get him to hang out, and while Ichigo never answered, tonight, he did.

      A simple:   ‘yeah.’  
  


As he’d expected, he only had to stand out there on the curb for about twenty seconds before a dark car with blackout windows pulled up next to him, the back door opening for him.

Ichigo sighed, standing on the curb with his hands in his pockets, looking into the smoke-filled cab. “I’d ask how you found me, but I know I wouldn’t like the answer.”

“Yer’ a goddamn disgrace, stumblin’ around out here,” Grimmjow grumbled at him, cigar in his teeth, rings glinting on his fingers as he lounged around in the backseat with a foot up like he owned the place. Well… he sort of did.

“I’m not drunk.”

“All the worse.” Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at him and tossed his head. “Get in.” Ichigo did, and the door shut behind him.

He sat in the smoky backseat with Grimmjow, crowded by his heavy fur coat and the suffocating air. He didn’t know why it was easier to breathe in here than it was in the cold apartment with Renji.

Grimmjow signaled his driver to pull away from the curb and Ichigo settled in with a sigh.

“Haven’t seen you in a long time,” he began, because they hadn’t exactly left things on a good note.

“Yeah, well,” Grimmjow grunted, putting his arms up on the back of the seat, unconcerned with where they were driving. Ichigo tried looking out the window to gauge where they were going, but there was no point. “You were pretty steamed last time around. Thought I’d wait until you probably weren’t gonna’ throw plates at my head next time you saw me.”

“There’s no plates here, so.”

Grimmjow took his cigar from his mouth and exhaled, then set it in his teeth on the other side, his arms up on the seat behind him. “Who do I gotta’ take care of to get the sad eyes to quit.” Ichigo scowled defensively. Sad eyes?

“Nobody, look, just-”

“It’s him, isn’t it,” Grimmjow pinpointed, damn him. “He ain’t doin’ well.”

Ichigo groaned. He should’ve known Grimmjow would already know. “Amnesia.”

“Spill.”

“He doesn’t know we were ever together. He doesn’t feel like he used to.”

“Mm,” Grimmjow grunted, pursing his lips with a nod. “You two split up?”

“...” Ichigo narrowed his eyes. Where was this going. “... Well yes. He doesn't know, so there wasn't anything left to split up _from._ ”

“A guy in the family can bust his kneecaps in one hour,” he said, holding up a finger to emphasize. “You feel me?”

“Look, why would-?” Ichigo shook his head. “No, Grimmjow, I told you, no more.” He put his head in his hands. “Ugh, look, this was a mistake. Stop the car.” He rapped on the window separation, “Lemme’ out up ahead.”

“Keep driving,” Grimmjow countered, slapping closed the privacy shutter and turning in the seat. “I thought we were buddies. You told me that. Unless you were lying?”

Ichigo sighed. He knew Grimmjow loved him in his own way, but the guy won’t and can’t change. “Yeah, you were a great _buddy,_ until I found out that the family friends you kept talking about weren’t blood relations.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” Grimmjow insisted, waving his hands. “I can separate business and casual.”

“Look, I get it, it’s hard for a don to tell who his friends are, it’s hard for you to find people who want to spend time with you without being scared shitless or secretly plotting to kill you, and I feel bad, I do- I’m sorry, I’m sorry you’re lonely, I’m sorry you feel like I’ve bailed on you, but I’ve got bigger problems right now,” Ichigo said.

“I know. And you’re so messed up over it that you took me up on my offer,” Grimmjow replied with a challenge glinting in his eyes. He was silent after that and Ichigo let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, it’s been… bad,” he agreed.

“Tonight you’re gonna’ forget your worries,” Grimmjow said, stretching himself out and flopping a heavy coat-lined arm around his shoulder. Ichigo let himself be yanked in, exhausted and cranky and sad.

“Nothing too crazy.”

“You’re the one who got in the car, don’t bitch about it now.”

“... At least promise no cockfighting.”

“Okay deal.”  
  


     When he at last was dropped home at five in the morning, Renji was waiting up in the living room, lying on the couch. Ichigo, who’d tried to come in quietly to avoid waking him, stopped and looked at him once he noticed him.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me,” he said hesitantly, feeling as though he were in trouble, even though Renji had no reason to be concerned about him now.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Renji mumbled.

Ichigo shifted awkwardly for a moment, then walked past him to go to his room. Before he got there, Renji got up, arms crossed, and asked him, “Were you with Jaegerjaquez?”

Ichigo stopped short, heart seizing for a second. He didn’t know why, not when the days of his boyfriend waiting up for him, worried, were long over. Not now that Renji had lost all that. “How’d you know?” he asked, turning back around to see Renji giving a troubled frown.

“I had a bad feeling. Plus these days you usually only go see him when you’re mad at me.”

“Why does that sound true?”

“I thought you’d stopped hanging out with him,” Renji said, brow furrowed in concern. Ichigo fell right back into his routine of defending Grimmjow, feeling a sad sense of deja vu.

“He doesn’t have any real friends. We both needed some company.”

“But you have friends!” Renji protested, blocking Ichigo when he tried to go into his room. He grabbed the knob and held the door shut against Ichigo’s hand. “I’m right here!”

“...” Ichigo hung his head, letting his hand fall from the doorknob.

Renji seemed overwhelmed by sadness then, stepping back, his expression crestfallen. “Why do I feel like I’m being punished.”

“Sorry,” Ichigo scrubbed at his face. “I know I’ve been an asshole to you. It just… hasn’t been easy for me lately.”

“I don’t see why,” Renji tried, laughing helplessly.

“Ah, don’t worry too much.” He half-smiled. “I’ll make it.”

  
     Ichigo felt like he might have overdone whatever the ‘sad eyes’ were, because after that, Renji has tried being extra nice to him, and Ichigo could tell because he actually made breakfast and was cleaning around the house.

He’d started humming _Invincible_ again, actually singing one or two words once in awhile, still on a loop, but he hadn’t made much progress.

That night, he didn’t know why, but he let Renji convince him to go out with friends. Maybe it was because Ichigo still felt like a jerk for excluding Renji meanly the night before.

That was yet another mistake.

They were out at a bar with Renji’s friends, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Kira, and Hisagi, just bumming around, drinking and bullshitting. At first, Ichigo hadn’t wanted to come, but Renji had insisted for some reason that he tag along.

Everyone already knew about Renji's injuries, but Ichigo hadn't told them about the amnesia, finding the topic of conversation too painful. It was a mistake to come out tonight, because he hadn’t thought about how their friends would notice that something weird was going on, because they all knew that Renji and Ichigo were together, and now of course, Renji was acting like they weren’t. It was impossible not to notice, as although an outsider wouldn’t exactly know that they were lovers, Renji was unashamedly affectionate with him, and their friends would immediately catch on to a sudden change like this.

_‘Hey pretty baby with the high heels on-’_

That was when Ikkaku started looking at them weird, his eyes narrowed. Ichigo’s expression soured into a scowl but he just sipped his beer and didn’t say shit. All Ichigo wanted to do was escape, and now he was going to have to relive this shit again.

Renji was telling a story or something, Ichigo had tuned him out, still watching Ikkaku with suspicion, and of course, the guy had to go and open his mouth.

“Did you two break up?” he asked bluntly. Yumichika kicked him under the table viciously. “I mean, just, that’s the first time _‘The Way You Make Me Feel’_ has come on and you haven’t started serenading like a loon. Ow! Fuck, Yumichika!” he snapped when he was kicked again.

Ichigo’s throat tightened up and he sat like a statue, waiting for Renji’s response to hearing that they were boyfriends. Either luckily or unluckily, Renji paused for a moment, but brushed it off as a joke, laughing a little bit. The others at the table laughed too, somewhat uncomfortably at the sight of Ichigo’s clenched jaw.

Great, so everyone knew now. That wasn’t humiliating at all.

“I’ll be out back.” Ichigo got up and went outside to get some air, but didn’t go back inside, remaining out there even after Hisagi and Renji came to check on him once or twice.

When the two of them got home that night, Renji confronted him almost the moment they went in the door. “Okay, I know tonight everyone was in on something that I didn’t pick up on. They all kept giving me looks and then lookin' at each other all concerned.”

Ichigo clenched his fist around his jacket and hung it up, eyes carefully closed while he took a moment to regain composure.  
  


   “Look,” Renji said, “I trust you to be real with me and answer me honestly when I ask this.”

  
“...”

  
“And I think I know why you’ve been acting weird when I say that… I’m different,” Renji muttered slowly, shifting in uncertainty. Ichigo glanced at him, standing there with his head to the side and his hands curling and uncurling. “... After the crash, I mean,” he clarified, having worked it out. “... Aren’t I.”

“Yes,” Ichigo said rather breathlessly, “Yes, that’s right.”

“I know we talked right when I woke up, but…” Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I must have... It's the only thing that makes sense. I’ve forgotten more than I thought, haven’t I.”

“Yes, you could say that.” Ichigo’s eyes were locked onto Renji’s face then, a ball of pain high up in his throat, fluttering and humming to come out.

“And… it’s been… hard?” Renji tried, voice soft and his expression cautious, as if he’d realized he’d hurt him and wanted to fix it. “For you?”

Ichigo didn’t say anything for a long time, swallowing the pain down. Renji gazed back at him with these deep brown eyes, the ones Ichigo’d fallen in love with. Finally Ichigo said, “I’m going to bed.”

“Ichigo…” Renji’s eyebrows scrunched together and he held out a hand as if to approach and touch him, but Ichigo shied back, shaking his head and making to move around him. “Ichi, I’m worried about you, bud. Is everything okay?”

The pain built until he physically couldn’t do anything with it but scream. No swallowing, no clearing his throat, no _breathing._  
  


    “No! Everything’s not okay!” he broke, shouting suddenly enough that Renji jumped, stepping back in alarm. “Everything’s fucked up!” he hollered.

Renji’s mouth opened, but Ichigo just screwed his eyes up and bent over, throwing a hand out. “Every day I think maybe this’ll be the day that you just snap out of it and it’ll come rushing back, but you don’t remember _shit!_ You forgot everything and you’re standing there completely fine and shit, acting like everything’s okay, like I’m supposed to be fine too!”

Renji got a word in finally, brow furrowed as, without really yelling back, he said defensively, “It’s not like I can fucking help it, okay? Don’t blame me for this, just calm-”

“I _don’t!_ ” Ichigo yelled. “I know as well as you do if I had stayed awake in that fucking car, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Ichigo, why are you getting so upset, what the hell did I forget?!” Renji shouted back, his whole body cringing in distress, his expression pained like he couldn’t bear to see Ichigo breaking apart. “It’s still me, I’m still the same person.” Ichigo shook his head, gripping at the sides of his head, growling.  
  


     Desperately, Renji shouted, “Whatever’s missing, it must not have been that important!”  
  


Ichigo breathed heavily, shoulders hanging and eyes glittering with tears, and Renji froze, going silent, mouth open. He tried to say something, but he just shook his head and crumpled, walking past Renji.

“I’ve gotta’ move out,” he croaked, and closed himself in his room. Renji didn’t knock, didn’t call after him. It took Ichigo ages to get to sleep.

In the morning, he woke up to a note on the floor in front of his door.  
  


_‘Hey, so, you probably don’t want to talk right now and I don’t want to get sappy on you, but man, barring Rukia, you’re like my best friend, and I don’t want to see you go._

_Don’t move out. If I hurt you that bad that you feel you have to get away from me, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know when I said it wasn’t important, that really messed you up, but it just slipped out. Of course it’s important. It has to be. I'm just mad at myself that I could lose something like that._

_I know it’s probably been hard for you trying to take care of me without me even knowing that something was this wrong. I won’t lie to you, I still don’t really feel like anything’s out of place, I feel the same as always, but I know something’s up because everyone else seems to know something I don’t. I know I’m missing something and I’m trying to figure it out, I swear I am._

_I know I really pissed you off last night so I’m gonna give you your space until you can forgive me, but please, whatever I have to do to convince you to stay here, just let me know. Whatever I’ve forgotten, it doesn’t have to come between us. I mean, I’m still the same guy._

_I hope you’re not so messed up over this that you don’t wanna’ be my friend anymore, because well, that’d really suck for me. I’d miss you a lot, buddy._

_So yeah, I didn’t think I could say this to your face, but I just wanted to tell you I’m trying, so don’t quit on me, Ichi._

_Okay. Good talk.'_  
  


   Ichigo didn’t see Renji all day, who knows where he went or whether he was hiding away in his room to give him some space, but anyway, when Ichigo went to bed late that night and rolled around for a few hours, he got a knock on the door.  
  


   “Hm?”  
  


Renji opened the door a little and looked in, standing awkwardly in the hallway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ichigo replied, taken aback, having not expected the visit.

“I, uh… can’t sleep,” Renji muttered quietly, rubbing his neck and shifting around.

“...”

“. . .” Renji was silent for a minute when Ichigo didn’t respond. He hadn’t seen Renji this subdued in a long time. He must still be scared shitless that Ichigo was going to move. After another beat, he noted sheepishly, “... Sorry, I just realized that it was probably a dick move to come wake you up, and-”

“It’s okay,” Ichigo said quickly to cut off Renji’s rant before he could embarrass both of them by groveling. “It’s okay, I can’t sleep either.”

“Oh.”

Renji shuffled a bit more and Ichigo sat up in bed, watching him. “Just… I thought maybe… We just don’t seem to hang out like we used to, and I thought maybe you’d…” He stared at his feet. “Come play Streetfighter?”

Ichigo sat there motionless, and then finally whispered into the silence. “Right now?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll be just a minute.”

  
    They didn’t talk very much, but they played for a long time into the early hours, eating chips and playing Streetfighter and Mario Party and Pokemon Colosseum.

At last Renji, picking at the carpet, said, “You’re not still thinking about moving, are you?”

“...” Ichigo stopped fighting, as Renji’s player had gone still. He looked down at his lap, unwilling to make eye contact.

“Ichigo, you won’t move out, will you?” Renji begged.

“I dunno’ man, look,” Ichigo began, eyes closed, because this was hard and it wasn’t getting any easier.

“No, please, just-” Renji cut him off with a note of desperation in his voice as he scrambled onto his knees. “... I’ve been doing everything I can to try and remember whatever this is, but it’s not coming, and… I don’t want to feel like…” He put a hand to his chest helplessly, his voice trailing off, “... like how I am now, that I can’t be your friend anymore… that… that it's not good enough.”

Ichigo looked away. Renji did too, but he kept talking.

“I feel like over the past couple of years, I’ve really gotten to know you, and well… I’m trying to tell you, everything’s better with you here.” Ichigo didn’t breathe for a second, looking over at Renji, who immediately flushed and blew off, “Man, I sound like a total weiner dog.”

Ichigo sighed, glancing down to his lap again. There was no point in hoping every time Renji said something out of the past.

“... What,” Renji wondered, eyes flicking over his face. “What, did I mess up again?”

“What? No,” Ichigo denied, “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” Renji said, a shutter of darkness going over his face. “God, what am I missing?” He rubbed his forehead with a scowl. “Can’t you tell me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ichigo whispered. “I’ll stay.”

Renji looked at him for a long time. “... Promise?” he mumbled, “That it doesn’t matter, I mean. That it doesn’t change…” he made some weird gesticulations between them, “this.”

“Promise,” Ichigo half-grinned, then punted Renji out of the ring and won the game. Renji didn’t even get upset, too relieved to yell.

. . .  
  


Ichigo had some rare time to himself because Renji was going to be out all afternoon getting his hair done. Ichigo had no idea why it should take a whole afternoon, but he didn’t complain, because he knew Renji liked going and relaxing, and of course, flirting with all the girls.

Ichigo was pretty sure Renji was one of the few men who ever went in there to get a haircut, and all the women doted on him. He didn’t blame them exactly, although doting has never been his thing. He can admit that Renji was very handsome and charming too. As long as Renji didn’t start complaining that Ichigo liked going to the gym alone, they’d have no reason to argue about it.

    ‘hey my number one, what do you say to dinner with me later???’

Renji sent a picture of himself and a pretty lady standing behind him cutting his hair, both of them smiling for the camera. Ichigo snorted, having no doubt Renji’d done the whole, ‘Smile at my boyfriend!’ thing he’d heard about from Renji’s friends. Apparently he did it a lot, which made sense. They had to pay monthly for the cloud space to hold all of Renji’s pictures.

‘what is she doing to you?’

‘Deep condition. Takes like three hours altogether, but hey.’

‘hey what.’

‘Have to cut it short otherwise with all the swimming we do. Gets way too ratty.’

‘like your bandannas, you mean?’

Renji didn’t answer for about five minutes, and when he did, he said: ‘I think we should see other people.’

‘Haha.’

‘No, who are you. No. Wow.’

Ichigo smiled and went about his business.

‘so dinner?’

‘Where.’

‘at home. I meant we could eat up on the roof together. With candles and stuff.’

‘Sexy. sure.’

‘Check me out.’  Renji sent a picture of him holding the camera back and grinning, girls crowding around him to get in the picture.  Ichigo snorted again. They’d never really had a point of jealousy in their relationship, because Renji was just an affectionate playful guy who still brought home more than enough love for Ichigo.

‘Nice hair.’

‘Thank you.’

When Renji arrived home, he came in with a grocery bag. “I got you that chocolate thing from the place. I snatched it right before this other guy got it. Call me the greatest man and I’ll give it to you.”

Ichigo eyed the bag, but pursed his lips, wondering if he could make a snatch for it.

“I’ll settle for a kiss.” Ichigo grimaced, but let Renji kiss him. “Feel my hair. Good?”

“Ooh, nice,” Ichigo agreed, running his hand through the silky tail. Renji hummed, enjoying being touched, and when Ichigo moved away to read on the sofa, he started rummaging in the fridge.

“Ichigo, you feel like pork cutlets for dinner? I’ll make it for us.”

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll do the rice.”

“No, go relax!” Renji said indignantly, standing up from the fridge.

“But the rice only takes like-”

“I’ve got it!” Renji insisted. Ichigo rolled his eyes and watched him cook, sitting at the counter.

They went up to eat on the roof together and then kissed on the bench under the stars. Pulling back from their embrace, Ichigo drew a hand through Renji’s hair again, cupping his face. “Your hair’s… so soft,” he marveled. Renji grinned smugly.

“I told ‘em. I get you into bed every time with the soft hair.”

Ichigo snorted. “Yeah, that’s definitely it,” he said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Renji mumbled, leaning back on the bench and cuddling against him, an arm around his shoulders as he looked at the sunset. “Do you remember the time at the Osaka Kaiyukan?”

“When. Which time.”

“Like… hm, six, seven years ago?” Renji estimated.

“Oh, that’s way back,” Ichigo muttered, thinking, “Uhh, was that the time they had the ‘gyuu-gyuu cute’ exhibit?”

“No, I’m talking about the seal thing.”

Ichigo laughed a little bit. “Dude, I thought it was going to jump right out and get you. I told you that taiyaki shirt was a bad idea.”

“That’s been my best idea in my entire life, Ichigo - except you, of course,” he crooned, kissing at Ichigo’s ear until Ichigo tossed him off with a groan. “And then we got into the station after riding back, it was raining so hard that we just camped out there for a while, you remember?”

“Yeah. Where are you going with this.”

“I dunno’,” Renji hummed. “I was just thinking.” He gazed at Ichigo with this slow smile, his hand stroking the back of Ichigo’s head. “Your hair just went flat to your head and there was this one stupid piece, right here, sticking out, that would drip but wouldn’t lay down.” Renji pulled on his forelock, and Ichigo slapped him back.

“And then you’re like, ‘what’re you looking at?’” Renji imitated, grinning.

“Oh yeah.”

“And I was so close to kissing you,” he whispered, leaning in to let his lips brush against Ichigo’s as he said it, ending it with a warm long kiss.

“Why didn’t you?” Ichigo murmured when Renji pulled back enough to let him breathe.

“Thought you might throw me onto the tracks.”

“Who says I won’t?”

“You’d miss my soft hair,” Renji said with a grin, eyes warm in the setting sun.

“Caught me,” Ichigo sighed, and Renji snickered, holding him close and letting their feet rest together as they watched the sky burn and turn golden pink.

 

. . .

_You set my soul alight._


	12. Explorers

_Once I’d hoped to see the new and unknown. This planet’s overrun; there’s nothing left for you or for me. Don’t give in, we can walk through the fields and feeling nature’s glow, but all the land is owned; there’s none left for you or for me._

_. . ._

 

Renji wasn’t humming _Invincible_ anymore. No, that afternoon, he was singing.

He seemed to have figured out at least one line of the song, because he kept repeating it, _‘Cause there’s no~ one like you~ in the universe~.’_   He hummed a little more during the parts he didn’t know, bumbling around, but he got the last line.

“Hmm-hmmm things around… and toniiight, we can truly say… uh, something something?”

Ichigo didn’t confront him directly about it again and just tried not to listen, because he felt hope was just going to be more painful at this point.

Things had improved slightly after Renji’s apology note and their night playing videogames together.

Ichigo talked with Rukia one afternoon on his break when she called to check in on him. “Any progress?” she asked.

“Well,” he muttered, “I keep thinking that stuff’s coming back to him, but… I dunno’, I’m crazy,” he dismissed. “I’m imagining it, I know I am, it just… it hurts worse every time.” He put his head in his hand, leaning on the counter, and told her, “I don’t think I can keep this up, Rukia. I told him I wanted to move out, and it seemed like it scared him. I know he feels bad that he can’t remember. I don’t want to make him beat himself up over it, but I dunno’ if I can do this anymore.”

“He’s talked to me about it,” Rukia mentioned, giving a long sigh before telling him, “Ichigo, he might not feel the way he did anymore, but he still cares. He’s really freaked out that he messed up and that you’re going to move out. I keep trying to cue him in to try and get him to remember, but… you’re right, it just seems to upset him. He knows when he’s missing something.” Ichigo clenched his fist against the counter, bowing his head.

“He’s always been hard on himself. Just… don’t give up yet.”

“There’s nothing left to give up on. It was never a question. He’s not gonna’ get it back,” and his voice cracks when he said it, because knowing it was different from admitting it. “God, he’s never gonna’ get it back, is he.”

“All the more reason not to go.”

“Why?” he croaked.

“You can still love him anyway. You can still have him in your life.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“I don’t know if it is, Rukia, I really don’t.”

  
    Time passed, and soon it was finally early April, and Ichigo’s been doing a little better. He was getting through life at least, although there was still an inescapable feeling of grief and loss the followed him constantly. He was more resigned to it at this point, this shadow trailing behind his heart.

Renji had been acting more like his old self at least, trying to cheer him up as he had after they’d first become friends. Ichigo’s mellow attitude and flat frown always seemed to cue Renji in to either provoking him into bickering or dragging him out to have some fun. Now, there was the added element of Renji trying painfully hard to be nice and make Ichigo like him again, so that he wouldn’t move away.

  
    “Ichigo, what’s got you down?” Renji asked in concern when Ichigo lay around on the couch like a slug for too long.

“I’m not down,” he mumbled.

“But you haven’t once said anything about that trip we always do,” Renji complained, perched by the window.

“What trip.”

“You know, we go out to Ueno park for the day to look at the trees,” he reminded, and of course, Ichigo already knew, he didn’t know why he was torturing himself. “Or go out to Kyoto to hike.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, c’mon!” Renji insisted, “We went out that one year and rode the train through the countryside and then hiked from Kurama to Kibune? It was so beautiful!”

Ichigo gave half a shrug, letting his shoulder fall back down into a slump. The last thing he wants to do these days is go out into nature with Renji and accept that their camping and hiking and traveling days as lovers were over.  “I don’t feel up to it.”

“But the trees only bloom for like a week!”

“Who cares.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Renji moaned, “didn’t you tell me once that springtime was your favorite season because you love the flowers?”

“Renji, I don’t want to,” Ichigo grit out, clenching his fists.

“Why not? The fresh air will do you good,” Renji pressed. “You’ve been down lately, I wanna’ help. We should get away for the weekend.”

“No, just stop,” he snapped, shooting Renji a vicious glare.

Renji was quiet for a second, and then meekly tried, “Why’re you getting so mad?” Ichigo turned away, pressing his thumbs into his temples. “You used to love doing that kind of stuff together.”

“Yeah, well. That was before. This is now.” Ichigo got up.

Renji was speechless for a few minutes, and then finally said rather helplessly, “Ichigo, I feel like you’re not even trying.”  
  


  _“What’s there left to try for?!”_ Ichigo spat, tearing at his hair.  
  


“...” Renji just looked hurt, speechless. Ichigo sighed through his nose and shook his head.

“Yeah. Alright.” Renji just looked at his feet, getting up. “I’ll just…” He left the room.

Ichigo kicked the couch viciously, scaring Orange and Apple.  
  


 . . .  
  


Ichigo would look back later on it as the first of many hikes, but at the time, it hadn’t seemed of much significance. Not long before they’d gotten together, Rukia and Renji had come to spend his birthday and the usual O-bon festivities that occurred around his birthday with him right in the assbutt of summer, mid July, and they were out hiking Mount Hiei.

The both of them were pouring sweat, panting as they climbed in the baking heat. Ichigo moved to the side of the trail to yield to some downhill hikers and rest in the shade. He called up to his overeager friend, who was pushing too quick a pace. “Renji, c’mon, Rukia’s way back there!”

“We’re almost at the top,” Renji insisted, not turning around.

 _“Wait_ for her, damnit!” he hollered, disturbing the peace of the woods.

“She’s still looking at that bunny carving, she’ll catch up in no time,” Renji dismissed, but paused. “She’s got those springy legs.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ichigo panted. Renji actually went back down a few steps to meet him, stopped to douse the towel tied over his head in water, and then grabbed Ichigo’s shirt sleeve and gave him a good yank.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“Okay!” Ichigo yelped, almost tripping up the tree-root steps. “Okay, geez.”  
  


     When they got to the top, they took in the view of the mountains and both gave a little breathy, ‘whoa.’

They looked for a long time together through the misty treetops over the dropoff, and Renji finally hissed, “Nice, right?”

“Why are you whispering?” Ichigo whispered back, elbows on the railing.

“Don’t wanna’ disturb the… _this!_ ” Renji gestured with his arms at all the glory of nature, the trees and the mountainside, the beautiful fog. “Wow, it’s beautiful,” he breathed, “Gotta’ be gorgeous when the stars come out.”

“Didn’t know you were so woodsy.”

“It’s funny actually,” Renji snickered, “I wasn’t, y’know, when I was a kid. Before they caught me an’ Rukia, we were always in the city, but we always dreamed about comin’ out here to the wilderness.” He shrugged, still staring off over the cliff. “Well, my dream was to go to the ocean, but climbing a mountain was on the list too. I thought I’d feel like a different person up here,” he said, smile fading as he gazed on the sky for a time.

“Do you think that’s dumb?” he asked, looking to Ichigo.

“Fairly dumb,” Ichigo teased, anything to steer the conversation away from whatever this sentimental thing was, “But not completely dumb.”

“Pff. Jerk."

"Idiot."

“Hey now,” Renji protested.

“Heh’.”  
  


    “We should do this again,” Renji said, smiling at the corner of his mouth.

“Do what again?” Ichigo asked, looking over at him.

“Y’know… come out here. Explore.”

Ichigo wrinkled his brow. “You _know_ Rukia’s flying back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I-!” Renji huffed through his nose. “I mean, well, you and I can still do stuff. I like hanging out with you, I’m not ashamed!”

Ichigo should’ve gotten it then, that Renji had rushed him up here to get a moment alone together in the beautiful scenery, but at the time, he hadn’t gotten it. He’d had no idea still that Renji probably already felt something for him even then. He’d had no idea that they already loved each other.

But then again, he’d never had any idea until Renji had come out and hit him over the head with it: _‘Ichigo, I’ve fallen in love with you, won’t you be mine?’_

“Alright,” he’d said, and they had. They had hung out more and hiked together again. They’d gone on a lot of adventures together, but those days were over now. Ichigo couldn’t do that stuff anymore, not now.  
  


_‘You used to love doing that kind of stuff together.’_  
  


Ichigo didn’t know what Renji remembered from those trips, but Ichigo couldn’t look back on them without remembering his feelings burning within him, without remembering holding hands through the woods, kissing under a tree, sharing water and a sleeping bag. He didn’t know how Renji could remember enough to know they’d hiked, but not enough to remember the rest.

Whether Renji was disappointed or not, Ichigo couldn’t do those things anymore now. He can’t go back to that time and pretend, knowing what he knew now.

Sometimes he wished it were just that simple again, gazing out over the trees and teasing each other, already in love without hardly knowing it other than this fluttering in his chest, without feeling the pain of it every single second. Instead, feeling on top of the world.

He wished he could go back because he couldn’t stand the feeling of trying to redo the past and miserably failing to recreate the first time the same way.

 . . .  
  


_Can you free me, free me from this world?_


	13. Neutron Star Collision

      At last, Ichigo had decided it was best if he moved out after all.

He knew Renji wasn’t going to be happy about it, because he’d promised that he was going to stay, but Ichigo just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending.  
  


‘You know, you can always come stay at my place,’ Grimmjow pestered through text.

‘I dunno.’

‘i promise no crazy shit.    You’ll be safe there.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Yeah do that.’

‘Yeah you know what. Maybe for a few days. I just can’t stay here.’

A few long minutes after that correspondence, Grimmjow had unexpectedly - to Ichigo’s chagrin and irritation - changed his mind.

‘actually’

‘what’

‘You can’t stay here. Stay there.’

‘What the fuck’

‘If you still want to leave tomorrow, then leave, but stay there tonight.’  
  


Furious, Ichigo had decided to stay at a motel, anywhere, as long as he didn’t have to stay here another night. All that was left was to tell Renji. He was going to come clean on all of it, their relationship - everything.

He expected disgust, denial, outrage, even feelings of betrayal when Renji learned the truth about them, but Ichigo couldn’t keep living this lie. All he had was memory, and without memory, he was going to be sucked out into the infinite nothingness. He would not pretend these memories he had of loving Renji didn’t exist anymore.

    He had to tell him, and then he had to go.  
  


That afternoon, his hands shook as he opened the front door, coming in from work. He looked around, intending to do it right then. He’d packed up his stuff the night before, it was all waiting just inside his room.

He walked from room to room, not seeing Renji anywhere. Ichigo looked all around the house, but didn’t find him.

At last, he knocked on Renji’s door and found no answer. “Renji?”  He cleared his throat. “You in there?”

There wasn’t a single sound. Was he sleeping? Ichigo opened the door and peeked in, but Renji wasn’t there either. Their bed was unmade, but empty.

   Looks like he’d have to wait until Renji came home.  
  


Ichigo sighed and headed to the bathroom, went inside and splashed his face with cold water, leaning down over the basin. His hands shook and his stomach was tied in knots, but he knew he had to do this, or he’d keep living in this constant pain. If he left, he might be able to find that unfeeling indifference he’d sunken into after losing his mom. At least then it might not hurt so badly.

He let the chilled water drip down off his nose into the sink, trailing through the drain. When he picked his head up to look in the mirror, he blinked at the sight of a pink sticky note.

     He took it down and read it.  
  


                "There are some things the heart doesn’t forget,” he read aloud slowly.  
  


He stared at it in confusion. He felt like he’d heard that before somewhere. Probably just some dumb reminder Renji had left up for himself. He hadn’t left any notes around the house for Ichigo since before the accident, barring that apology letter, but who knew.

Ichigo dried his face and walked out of the bathroom, weighing his options. Wait for Renji to come home and have it out with him, maybe end things badly, or leave him a letter telling him where he went and just move out while he was gone.

The cowardly way out of things was quite attractive, but he didn’t know if he wanted to leave things that way, even if it meant they might fight.

Ichigo looked up towards the front door and blinked, his heart stuttering to a stop. There was another note over there, this one bright yellow. He stared at it for a long time before he finally breathed, walking over towards it.

There was nothing on it except for an arrow pointing upwards. He looked up at the ceiling uncomprehendingly.

Swallowing hard, Ichigo headed out of the room and made his way to the stairwell, climbing up to the top floor, breathing more and more heavily as he went, his hands cold and clammy with near blind panic. He ventured down to the end of the hall where the employee roof entrance was.

He put his hand on the handle, letting his head fall onto the door.

Ichigo climbed the stairs to the roof slowly, listening with his brow furrowed.

  
      “I was searching, you were on a mission; then our hearts combined like a neutron star collision-”  
  


Looking up to the top of the steps, Ichigo saw Renji’s tape-deck sitting there. His heart began pounding. That was _Neutron Star Collision_ that was playing. That can’t be right.

Ichigo came to the top of the stairs and saw Renji waiting up there for him at the edge of the roof, leaning on the concrete. There were pink paper hearts taped up everywhere, blowing slightly in the wind.

When he saw Ichigo, he walked towards him. Ichigo just stood there petrified, one foot behind him as his heart pounded in his ears and blurred his vision. He couldn’t get a read on him Renji at all.

Renji seemed to be examining his face.  
  


_“-left to lose, you take your time to choose. I can tell you now without a trace of fear… that our love-”_  
  


“What… what’s going on?” Ichigo tried weakly, barely breathing enough to make a sound. Renji shifted a bit, almost sheepishly, but his little smile was calm and bittersweet.

        “I know I’m a couple months late with it, but… Happy Valentine’s.”  
  


Ichigo’s throat closed up tight and hot, and he took a step back in retreat. “... What?” he croaked.

Renji didn’t close the distance, but took Ichigo’s hand very tenderly, his fingers closing around his warmly despite his startled jolt.

    “It’s me, baby,” he told him gently.

When Ichigo still didn’t react, staring wide-eyed and speechless, Renji coaxed, “C’mere.” Ichigo stood there numbly as Renji took the step in and took him in his arms, hugging him. He put his arms around him too, chin against Renji’s shoulder as he squeezed back.

Ichigo stared out across the skyline, eyes flicking about. Renji rubbed his back and held him and was quiet for a long time.

Renji at last separated them as the song finally ended and the one Renji’d been humming endlessly for weeks came on in its place. This time, Renji breathed the words in his ear perfectly. _“Follow through, make your dreams come true. Don’t give up the fight; you will be all right, ‘cause there’s no one like you in the universe.”_

Ichigo’s legs felt wobbly. He stared into Renji’s face helplessly. “You…”

“I know it’s been hard,” Renji said softly, “and lonely.” He let his hand run the side of Ichigo’s face. “I know I missed the first time, but lemme’ try to do this over.”

“Renji, I….” Ichigo shook his head, unable to speak another word for the tears blocking his throat.

“Ichigo,” Renji said, kneeling on one knee as he took a familiar ring box out of his pocket and held it up to him.

Ichigo couldn’t take it any longer, turning away and caving in on himself, bending almost in two, his face in his hands. He heard Renji stand and come towards him, felt his arms around his body, felt Renji crouching beside him as he crumpled to the ground, his knees hitting the pavement.

“Shhh, shh-sh-sh,” Renji hushed, and it was when Renji tried to comfort him that he finally burst. Ichigo gave a sob, body heaving with the pain of it, his entire stomach and chest tensed up, his face crumpled and pressed into his palms. It was over. It was all over. All of the things he’d lost forever, they’d been pulled back from beyond the void. This nightmare was over.

“Shhh, open your eyes,” Renji whispered, holding him from behind. Ichigo picked up his wet head, hardly able to breathe but for his pitiful weeping, and Renji took his hands, holding them in his and placing the ring box within them.

Ichigo shook his head wildly, crying openly, mouth wrenched down at the corners as Renji moved their hands to open it up together. Ichigo tried to stop blubbering, honestly he did, and began holding his breath as a last resort, but he couldn’t manage to keep it in, his whole body shaking.

Renji cracked the box open, Ichigo’s hands shaking within his as he opened the top of the felt-covered box.  
  


    There was a golden ring inside, sparkling in the sunlight when the lid opened all the way.

  
“It’s not the way I planned it to go,” Renji said in his ear. “I’m sorry it took me so long to ask. W’you marry me, Ichigo?”

He couldn’t speak, his throat wrenched too tight with tears. He didn’t even know why he was crying, really. He hadn’t expected to get this emotional.

He managed to nod and rub his cheek on his shoulder to wipe his wet eyes.

Ichigo can hear him smile and wriggle with glee next to his ear, but he managed to contain himself to unfolding Ichigo’s wobbly hand and pulling the ring out of the little cushion to fit it on his finger, then bring his hand to his lips and kiss it.

Renji brings him to a stand and hugs him happily. Ichigo clung onto him viciously, hugging him around his shoulders. “I love you,” he whispered, and he can’t remember the last time he’d said it or if he’d ever said it at all, but right then, if this was a dream, if this would be snatched away from him again, that was the most important thing to get out, the thing he’d bitterly regretted never saying. “I love you,” he croaked, his face wet with tears.

“Shhhh,” Renji hushed, holding his head against his, “I love you too.”  
  


   “When did it all come back,” Ichigo rasped, unwilling to let go or even loosen his grip around Renji’s chest. Renji didn’t seem to mind, swaying him back and forth and holding him like something precious.

“I know I haven’t said anything before, mostly because I didn’t want to get your hopes up…” Renji settled his head against Ichigo’s, his breath in Ichigo’s ear serving to finally calm him from his tears. “But, you know that feeling you get when it seems like you’ve done something before or heard something, but you can’t think where?”

“Deja vu?” Ichigo sniffed hard, wiping his nose clumsily without letting go of Renji.

“Yeah. Well after the crash, that’s how it’s been for me basically all the time, with pretty much everything. It was really hard for a while,” Renji sighed. “But most of all, that song kept bothering me. I didn’t know why, but it felt important. After last night, you know… when we fought, I came up here and sang it until enough of the words came back that I figured out where I’ve heard it before.”

Ichigo’s chin rested on Renji’s shoulder as he pressed his cheek into his neck, rocked gently in Renji’s arms. “When I listened to it, everything came back,” Renji whispered. “It was like I’d always known it all along. I don’t know how any of it slipped my mind.”

“I missed you,” Ichigo murmured.

“Sorry I’m an idiot, baby.”

Ichigo squeezed him and squeezed him, too choked up to say much more. He didn’t know why he was crying when he was so happy, didn’t know why he was hurting when he was overjoyed, grateful, relieved.

“I’m just glad the ring didn’t get lost while I was fuckin’ around with my brain all rattled,” Renji joked to try and lighten the mood. “Do you like it?”

Ichigo let Renji withdraw enough that he could free one arm and hold his hand out and look at the ring. It was golden and plain, other than a little star shaped hole punched out of the bottom.

“What’s the star for?”

“If I pass before you do, pretend I went out there.” Renji held his hand and rubbed his thumb over his hand, “But I’m still right here, with you.”

  
    “...” Ichigo looked up at him for a second, then out at the sky.  
  


“Do you think that’s dumb?” Renji wondered, and for a moment, for this situation, all those things Ichigo believed about how life didn’t carry on after the lights went out, about how nothing survived, about the absence of soul or heart or spirit - none of those things mattered in this moment - and in that ring, it did feel like it meant something, it did feel lasting and permanent, as much as something material could be.

“No,” Ichigo whispered. “What if I go first?”

“Not happening,” Renji grumbled back, holding onto him. Ichigo sniffled and managed to smile. “God, I haven’t seen you smile in so long,” Renji hummed, smiling back and nuzzling his head into Ichigo’s neck.

Renji held back and cupped the back of his head, their ears brushing together. He voice was soft then and imploring. “Why didn’t you ever try to tell me?” he wondered, “I mean, I figured it out eventually, but you were just gonna’ suffer like that, all alone?” Ichigo was silent, mouth dry as he burrowed his head on Renji’s shoulder. “What if I’d been too dumb to catch on? … God, you moved out of the room, you had to act like nothing was wrong,” he worked out.

“If it was me, I woulda’ been cryin’ my eyes out every day an’ beggin’ you ta’ love me again,” Renji said sadly.

“I thought you wouldn’t remember,” Ichigo said quietly, fingers curling into Renji’s back.

Renji pulled back and then guided him into a warm kiss. Ichigo just accepted it as he usually did at first, but then sniffed and held Renji’s face in his hands, kissing back earnestly. Renji sighed in contentment and ran his hands through his hair. “I’d never forget you, Ichiban,” he breathed onto Ichigo’s lips. “There’s some things you remember no matter what.”

 _Blackout_ started playing on Renji’s stereo, something quieter and sadder, something that made you want to sway in someone’s arms out under the crushing weight of the stars.  
  


“Ichigo, look, the stars came out!” Renji held him around the waist near the edge of the roof, looking out of the city and the open sky. “Let’s make a wish.”

  
“I dunno’ what to wish for,” Ichigo said after a few moments, wind in his hair.

  
“Anything you want.”

  
“Okay,” Ichigo said, but there was nothing he wanted. He’d already gotten it.

  
He didn’t believe in god or fate or luck or wishing on stars, but he did hope with all his might and thought, _‘If we do go up there when we die, until then, let us stay like this, together, until the blackout.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘ :P so you staying then huh? ’
> 
> ‘How do you know everything.’
> 
> ‘Guy in the family saw him buying the paper hearts.’
> 
> ‘Ugh.’ ‘You know what?
> 
> ‘What.’
> 
> ‘We have to hang out more.’


End file.
